#hes just...hes just a good boy weighed down by so much guilt that if he didnt have his crest he wouldve been crushed like a paper bag | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

thelostmagicians · 8 months

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Love Comes In Threes | Steve Harrington

Summary: Steve Harrington loves you, he just can't say it. [2k]

Fluff, comfort, slight angst, emotionally/verbally constipated Steve

♡

The last time Steve Harrington said I love you to someone she ripped out his heart and left with the boy she told him not to worry about.

He doesn’t remember the last time he said it to his parents, only that he stopped trying after he kept getting the dial tone in response to his feelings.

So you weren’t exactly surprised or upset when he kissed you instead of saying it back 6 months into your relationship.

The first time you said I love you to Steve it was a stormy evening. The both of you agreed to take things slow, wounds from the past still open and healing. But he just looked so handsome that night with his hair tousled in a perfect mess, red creeping on his cheeks from the cold air as the both of you raced towards his car trying to protect yourselves from the rain. He turned the heat on as he took your hands in his in an effort to warm you up. You tried to hold it in, you swear you did, but the love you had for him weighed down on you like an anchor and you thought if you didn’t tell him that second you were going to drown in your own feelings.

“I love you,” you had whispered as he continued rubbing his fingers over yours. He paused his actions, shyly looking up. The red on his cheeks could no longer be blamed on the cold because now he was feeling as the sun was glowing warm in his heart.

“You sure?” he asked you. Instead of answering you kissed him, hoping your lips would act as a spout and pour how you felt directly into him.

You knew that like you, Steve had been hurt in the past so when he pulled you in for another kiss instead of saying it back you never questioned him.

But that was a year ago.

Almost two years into the relationship and Steve still hasn’t said I love you back. Every time he hears it fall from your lips, he’ll just give your hand a squeeze and carry on. You want to think it isn’t a big deal. You try to convince yourself that the L word isn’t necessary in your relationship, not when you share a home, a bed, secrets, and, hopefully, a family in the future. But no matter how hard you try to ignore your feelings it still leaves you disappointed when you see couples everywhere throw the three words around like they’re playing catch. It’s an endless cycle of disappointment for not hearing it, guilt for questioning the love Steve has for you, and frustration for why it mattered so much.

“As someone who Steve previously loved, do you think he actually loves me or is he just… settling?”

Your question makes Nancy freeze, the book she was previously trying to shove back in the shelf falls with a loud thud. She throws an apologetic smile at the librarian who shakes her head in disapproval.

“What are you even talking about?”

“I’m sorry, I don’t know why I brought it up. But I was just thinking, Steve loved you Nance. He told you he loved you. It’s been years and people still remember how broken he was after you left. Like if I left would he be just as sad or would he be okay.”

“Are you planning on leaving Steve?” Nancy stutters out.

“Well no…definitely no. It just makes me wonder if people can see that Steve loves me or if they think of me as the passerby keeping him from you while you were the one that got away. Whenever I tell someone I’m dating Steve all I ever hear is good on him for moving on, poor thing was a wreck after Nancy Wheeler left.”

Nancy picks up her stack of books as she leads you to the front desk, “Look what Steve and I had was over before we both even realized it was over. He loves you, I think… I think he loves you more than he could’ve ever loved me. And why do you even care what people think? These are the same people who think Robin is a sinner and that my parents are happily married.”

You roll your eyes in affection as you help her with her books. “I guess you’re right…” you trail off as your eye catches a magazine. In big bold letters you read 100 Different Signs Your Man Loves You.

“Oh please you can’t be serious.”

You give her a sheepish smile as you check out your rental and head back home.

The magazine was utter trash. It had nothing, but surface value declarations that did nothing to soothe your worries. You stopped reading after sign 8 when it said Ladies if your man compliments your cooking, then it means he’s thinking about locking it down! Because remember a way to a man’s heart is through his stomach!

Your Steve wasn’t like this. Your Steve was the kind of guy who knew you were having a bad day before you even had the chance to tell him. Your Steve was the kind of guy who would willingly wake up early and go out into snow just to heat up your car so you won’t have to drive in the cold.

You sigh as you toss the magazine in the back of the car making a mental note to drop it off at the library on your way to pick up Robin for your girls day.

You honk twice in front of Vickie’s house before Robin comes bolting down the driveway, shoes in hand and trying to wrestle her jacket on. She gives you a wave before climbing in and greeting you with a tight hug.

“I see your sleepover went well,” you tease.

Before she can tease back Vickie knocks on the window prompting Robin to roll it down.

“Hi, Vickie” you smirk up at her, eyes darting to the purple bruise under her ear that she poorly tried to conceal with makeup.

She waves shyly, “Robin… I forgot to say,” she looks at you nervously, “Nevermind, just I’ll see you tomorrow.” She quickly kisses Robin’s cheek and scurries back inside.

“So… what was that whole thing with Vickie about?” you try to ease in.

Robin bumps her head on the window when you pull into a parking spot, “Oh Vickie? She’s still nervous about saying the L word publicly so that’s what she was doing.”

“At least she’s saying it privately,” you huff under your breath.

“What was that?”

“Oh, nothing, I was just asking how she says it in public if she isn’t comfortable?”

“You know the cheek kisses she gave, that was it.”

You quickly put the shirt you’re holding back on the rack before looking at Robin confused. “What do you mean, is that your guys’ secret language?”

Robin laughs, pulling up a skirt to herself. “No silly, haven’t you ever heard the saying love comes in threes. When you touch someone three consecutive times it’s the equivalent of I. Love. You. Hence three cheek kisses equal an I love you.”

“That’s so cute,” you squeal, squeezing her arm and testing it out for yourself.

She squeezes back instantly, “I’m surprised you haven’t heard of it, considering Steve’s the one that introduced me to it.”

Your steps falter behind her. “Hang on, Steve? My Steve, told you that?”

“Yeah, he said his Nana used to do it when they were kids or something like that. Told me before I told Vickie I loved her. Do you think this skirt is cute or should I save my money for a Madonna tape?”

Robin keeps rambling as you stay in place, your thoughts spiraling. Her confession makes you think about every single time Steve’s ever touched you. Every morning before you part ways how he pecks your lips once, twice, and a little longer the third time. How he squeezes your waist three times when he walks past you to get his favorite mug. How he reaches for your thigh, hand, anything he can get ahold of just to get three squeezes in. How he taps your arm in his sleep, again always in threes. You would stay up trying to figure out what song his taps represent before eventually drifting off yourself.

This whole time you were waiting for Steve to verbally express his love when he was doing it quietly in his own way, more often than you ever did.

You don’t even realize you’re crying until you feel a tear slowly drip down your neck.

“Hey what’s wrong are you okay?” Robin asks frantically. She drops her bags, hands squeezing your arms and eyes darting around for any signs of danger.

You nod through your tears, “I’m okay, can we just go. I have to get home, I know it’s crazy but…”

Robin nods, grabbing your arm and leading you to the exit.

The car ride back home is quiet, Robin didn’t even whisper a goodbye when she left simply settling with a quick peck to your forehead and soft smile.

Your thoughts feel overwhelming like everything is going a mile a minute when you think about Steve. You think about your first date, your second, and your third and so on. How Steve ended every night with three of something.

Your body is on autopilot as you make your way through the front door. Keys tossed in the bowl, coat hung up, and shoes thrown off.

“Hey baby, you alright? Robin called asking if you were okay.” A concerned Steve comes into your vision, he quickly wipes his hands on the kitchen towel before flinging it over his shoulder and kissing you. Once, twice, and thrice.

Your hard stare makes him nervous, he’s never seen you like this before. “Honey,” he whispers out.

You take a deep breath in, “You never said I love you to me, not after I said it first, not even when you asked me to move in.” You pause trying to compose yourself while Steve avoids your gaze. “This whole time I thought you didn’t love me like you should, that you loved me, but you weren’t in love with me.”

Steve lifts his head up, baffled, he goes to argue until you lift your hand up signaling him to wait.

“Robin told me something about how love comes in threes, today. How three taps, or any kind of touch in rapid succession three times is the equivalent of an I love you,” he finally meets your gaze as you slowly walk over to him, tugging on his waist to hold him as close as possible. “You told me you loved me on our first date, you told me the night we had our first kiss, you told me on our anniversary. And you tell me everyday. I don’t think there’s an hour that goes by without you telling me.”

Steve pulls you into his chest before gently lifting your head and kissing you three times. You giggle at the not-so-secret-anymore gesture. “I’m trying. I really am trying hard to say it, but I do. I really do. I want you to know how important you are, but I’m also scared. So I guess this was my way of saying it, reminding myself that when I do eventually say the words… you won’t leave.”

“I’m sorry…I’m so sorry for not seeing your love. For not understanding that even though you love me quietly you love me the most. Your love is in the tiny but grand gestures that I take for granted, but would miss deeply if I didn’t have it. I don’t need the words anymore Steve, I just need you because you love me more than I ever thought was possible and that’s enough. You’re enough.”

He squeezes your shoulder three times before whispering the words you’ve always wanted to hear from him.

They say love comes in threes and your love with Steve may be quiet, but it’s everywhere.

2K notes · View notes

pshcomforts · 2 months

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➳ afterglow | psh. — requested

non!idolsunghoon x olderfem!reader (feat. mark from nct)

“tell me this love is worth the fight”

synopsis: you forgot a special celebration with sunghoon, leading you guys to argue.

warnings/content: written in third pov. angst to fluff! slightly suggestive at the end (but nothing happens). age gap! (sunghoon’s 21, and reader’s 23). cursing! not proofread. sunghoon doubts himself :(

comments, likes, and reposts are appreciated :)

word count: 3.5k

a/n: message request.

༘˚⋆𐙚｡masterlist⋆.✧˚

current song playing: afterglow by taylor swift

↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺

1:28 ───────|──────────── -2:14

tick. tick. tick.

the clock ran faster within each minute y/n glanced back at it.

a sigh left her throat as she focused back onto her computer — typing in data to keep the files updated.

the girl worked an office job in her early twenties. it wasn’t as ideal, but for a paid internship, she had to take it.

months had passed since she started the job, and whispers of a promising position had been hinted each day she walked in.

and since then, y/n’s attempted to keep her score of being a trusting employee on a streak by staying past office hours.

she was a workaholic, if you will.

but who could blame her? the pay was good, and the work was her field of interest.

however, today was not one of those days she was willing to stay late for.

it couldn’t.

today marked her 1000 day anniversary with her boyfriend, park sunghoon.

her lovely, patient boyfriend who was younger than her by two years. the boy was in his early twenties, barely getting the hang of life with college.

a few significant dates had already been missed with the internship in the way, so she couldn’t possibly miss this one.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

a quick buzz formed in y/n’s pockets, allowing her to take a swift glance at her phone.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ 1000 day celebration with hoonie ੈ♡˳ ࿐ྂ

she groaned out a sigh as she felt a sudden pressure weigh in at her heart.

“just a little longer,” her voice mumbled before staring down at the time.

[ 4:37pm ] — it beamed.

just a few hours left and she’d soon be in sunghoon’s forgiving arms.

“hey y/n,” a deep voice called out to her, snapping the girl out of her guilt-eating thoughts.

she turned to her superior, mark, who was wearing a friendly smile.

“yeah?” she tried to sound cheerful.

“i know you get off soon, but with your hard work noticed, i was wondering if you could help out with a little more paper work?” he uttered with puppy eyes. “it’s just.. the way you file and organize suits how i usually go in on it. would it be okay?”

y/n froze in her tracks, conflicted with her options — leave work as planned for the important date with sunghoon, or further impress the manager for a permanent job.

“it wouldn’t take long, would it?” she chewed her cheek, lips almost bleeding with how much she awaited for an answer.

mark gave a light chuckle. “no, i wouldn’t make you stay too late, y/n. you always do that to yourself.”

the girl awkwardly laughed in return, murmuring empty words of how much effort she was willing to put in for the company before he left her with the paperwork.

her original plan of leaving early from such an exhausting shift had taken a pause as she huffed at the amount of files in front of her.

“shouldn’t take too long..,” she tried to reassure under her breath.

in seconds, y/n dove into the piles of paperwork — attempting to finish on time.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

[ 6:48pm ]

time was slipping through her fingers and the girl wasn’t even noticing it.

minutes passed within each time she glanced back at the clock, irking her to go quicker.

she had to finish on time, she just had to, at least before 9:30pm.

[ 8:21pm ]

coworkers around were now finishing their shift, leaving their cubicles to clock out for the night — leaving y/n with a few others.

“come on, i’m almost there.” she whispered to herself, sweat nearly dripping down her face with how much work she was powering through.

“good night, y/n!” — a few workers would beam to her, causing her to give a quick wave before going back to her job.

[ 9:18pm ]

the whole building was nearly abandoned now. the only remaining employees were mark, y/n, and about two more workaholics.

she was almost done. almost.

with such little time left, panic began to exude in the girl’s body.

“12 more minutes.. please,” she sighed.

a quick glance to the time was made before she decided to shut down every time displayed in front of her.

it was risky, but looking at the clock would only emit more anxiety to finish.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

soon enough, the filing job had run its course, and y/n was done.

“finally!” she beamed, stretching out every bone in her body.

her tired eyes glanced everywhere for the time before she realized her method of avoidance from earlier.

“did i make it..?” she questioned, but with every nervous breath she took, it was obvious she had no hope she did.

slowly, the girl lifted her phone to check the time.

[ 10:03pm ]

her fatigued body froze at the bright screen before feeling it defrost with a shiver to the spine.

she felt her breath get heavy as she searched for a message from sunghoon — just anything that may ease the guilty pressure on her heart.

but nothing.

no messages, no calls — nothing.

y/n bit her teeth together, clenching her jaw in regret.

sunghoon had been looking forward to their 1000 day celebration, and she failed him.

a shaky sigh left her throat as her hands fisted in shame.

“hey y/n,” a voice spoke from behind, causing her body to tense.

“oh, hey mark.” she murmured back, mind still flooded with sunghoon.

“you’re still here? i got your files, you’re good to go,” he responded. “by the way, i really appreciate your work here. i hope the ceo considers you here long term.”

y/n sighed in relief as a reply, body taking its final hit of exhaustion from sitting all day.

“you’re a great worker,” mark continued with a polite smile.

a few rewarding compliments remained to run through his mouth, allowing her to get a slight ego boost.

she beamed a smile towards him, truthfully forgetting about how much she had failed sunghoon.

“i hope to see more of this from you soon, y/n. we’re the last here so i gotta lock up.” her superior uttered to her.

the girl nodded her head before gathering her things and leaving for the boy to do as he said.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

the drive home from work was quiet.

y/n was worn out from the constant piles of paper work and to be quite frank, all she wanted was some peace and quiet.

the only thing that ran through her mind was how much mark had sweet talked to her about her work skills.

it was promising to hear all of that, and she couldn’t wait to tell it to her boyfriend — her boyfriend who waited hours for her.

but her energy was still wearing thin. every muscle movement she made in the car caused an aching bruise to form.

so when she arrived home, her hands slowly creaked the door open.

a sigh left her throat as she entered in.

everything was quiet and sunghoon couldn’t be found until she glanced to her left. the boy was sitting on the couch in silence, eyes lost in a daze and face blank with no expression presented.

then it hit her.

her blameworthy actions came back to guilt her once she found her person stiffly sitting down.

y/n took a gulp. she was the older one, but she knew how he was during arguments like these. she knew he was one to stay silent just to keep his emotions together.

“hoonie..?” the girl nervously mumbled, almost a whisper to his ears.

sunghoon only stood with a click to the tongue, jaw firmly clenching as he walked to the kitchen.

the atmosphere was quickly filled with tension in how much he ignored her.

“hoon?” she called out once more, only to get a slight glance back as a response.

the boy continued to gulp down some type of beverage, actively letting her presence go unnoticed.

y/n groaned in return, watching his petty efforts become the consequences of her own actions.

but truth be told, she was tired.

she was working all day, back to back with no break whatsoever and all she wanted was to get some sleep.

“sunghoon,” she sighed. “please, i’m sorry. i’m exhausted and work just kept pulling me back. my superior wanted me to file more before my shift ended and i-“

“work this and work that, that’s all we’re gonna talk about isn’t it?” hoon angrily spat, leaving a bitter taste in his mouth. the boy ignored the mention of mark with how pissed he was.

✩ ‘fighting with a true love’ ✩

all y/n could do was pause at his outburst.

“i’m sorry, sunghoon, i’m tired and-“

“and i was waiting for you all day to come home for our celebration.” he cut off once more, teeth biting down to mush away the heart aches.

✩ ‘is boxing with no gloves’ ✩

sunghoon finally turned after softly slamming the drink down onto the counter. his darkened eyes met hers, burning holes before quickly tearing up.

“i know..,” she bit her lips, shutting her eyes to avoid her heart breaking at his gaze. “i’m so sorry, sunghoon, i am. i just couldn’t leave, staying after hours just promised me a permanent position. please understand, this is what i’ve been working for.”

hoon scoffed. “are you in a relationship with me or your work?”

she exasperated a sigh before walking to the living room and slumping down on the couch. almost instantly, her body felt the soft, cushioned seats that welcomed her — allowing her to feel drained again.

“please, hoon, i’m tired-“

“that’s how our arguments always end, doesn’t it? you forget a date of ours, then you come home and you say you’re tired, then we’re fine the next day.” the male ridiculed, walking to the living room as well. “when is this gonna stop, y/n?”

“sunghoon..,”

“no, you’re saying you’re tired but i’m the tired one.”

y/n sighed as she sat up, body becoming depleted of energy. “i’m sorry but this internship is worth everything right now, and i’m doing so well with making an impression.”

“worth everything?” sunghoon reiterated with a shaky tone. “even our relationship?”

✩ ‘chemistry till it blows up, till there’s no us’ ✩

“what? no, hoon, that’s not what i meant.”

“is that what our relationship means to you?”

she looked up to his eyes that were inflamed with betrayal. “this job defines my future, sunghoon. this job is what i’ve always wanted, can’t you see that?” a hint of irritation was made present in her voice, showing that her sleep deprivation was irking her to be annoyed.

sunghoon sniffled, quickly wiping away a few tears so his girl wouldn’t feel troublesome. “i see that, y/n, i see it very clearly. i feel like i never see you anymore, in fact. you’re barely here.” his tone was firm, hinting that he was reflecting the energy back.

“this job is for our future too, sunghoon. i’m working to get a good position for financial stability.” y/n uttered, feeling her droopy eyes threaten to close. her mind quickly recalled back to their slight age gap as she felt the weigh of carrying it all on her shoulders.

“our future? you really think there’s gonna be a future with us when i never see you anymore?” the boy murmured, fists clenching with every word that left his mouth.

he hated what he was saying, but it was the truth.

however, her heart still dropped when she processed what he had uttered.

“you don’t think there’s a future with us..?” she took a particularly harsh gulp as tears finally streamed down her cheeks.

“you’re never here, y/n. how can there be a relationship if it’s only one person putting effort?” sunghoon responded, tears taking its fall for him as well.

the two stayed quiet.

no more raised voices and no more hushed words.

they both had reasons to be mad at each other, but they couldn’t see the others point.

y/n didn’t know what to say. her reasonings were being constantly repeated, but it seemed like it wasn’t going through his head — same with him.

“hoonie.., i’m sorry that i’m not there a lot but, i.. i’m just trying really hard to impress my superior and it’s-“

“your superior?” his soft voice squeaked. “mark..?”

the girl raised her head to peer up at him, only to find his thick brows slightly scrunched while his lips were molded into a frown.

“yes,” she sighed. “mark.”

“you stayed late on our 1000 day celebration with mark?” he uttered, voice weakening at the thought.

“yes, but mark’s just my superior. he has to be there when i work late.”

sunghoon scoffed, shaking his head with a low chuckle. no words could be formed with how much jealousy was seeping through him.

“sunghoon.”

he turned his body away from hers as a response, jaw tensing with every envy thought that she unintentionally spent their 1000 day celebration with mark.

“park sunghoon,” y/n firmly called, causing him to look at her. “you can not seriously be jealous right now.”

“jealous that he got to have time with you, and i didn’t? ridiculous.” he let a small puff of air slip by his lips before gazing back at her.

at this point, the girl was completely worn out. she wanted silence, and this argument was bringing her to her limit.

“you really can’t be jealous of mark. i’m your girlfriend, he’s a coworker; and i’m only there late because of how hard i’m working to secure this job, to ensure our financial stability.” she repeated, voice slightly raised as her patience wore thin. her body was begging to rest, and she didn’t know how much longer she could take this quarrel.

sunghoon stayed quiet, considering his choice of words before mumbling, “how much does he make?”

they locked eye contact and y/n instantly saw his teary, red eyes that begged for reassurance.

“what?” she softly asked, word almost incoherent with how much her heart shattered at his gaze.

the tall male shamed his head away, tears painting his cheeks more as he reluctantly croaked — “nothing, never mind.”

“hoon-“

she stood, body barely standing on its own,

but her boyfriend walked away with a murmur — “good night.., gorgeous.”

he still said her favorite nickname even through all of this.

before y/n could say more, sunghoon had already disappeared from her sight — walking into their bedroom without another word.

she sighed whilst sitting back down onto the couch. her boyfriend had just built a barricade around his feelings, shutting himself out to push her away and she wasn’t sure on what to do.

✩ ‘i blew things out of proportion now you’re blue’ ✩

but if he needed space, then she was gonna give it.

✩ ‘why’d i have to break what i love so much?’ ✩

so she settled down onto the couch, situating between the extra pillows and blankets kept in the closet to not disturb him any further.

it wasn’t as snug as her bed with her favorite boy, but it’d do for now.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

[ 12:52am ]

y/n was half asleep on the couch now after having dreaded doubts about their argument.

her body faced away from the opening side, giving her no possible way of catching sunghoon if he were to get up for a bathroom run.

she felt cold and stiff without him. nothing would be able to comfort her as much as his embracing warmth could.

the girl softly sniffled, feeling tears well up in her tired eyes while attempting to go to sleep.

as her heart laid heavy with her, sudden feet movements were heard from her opposing side — hinting that her boyfriend had gotten up.

she figured that it was most likely for a quick bathroom break but when she felt his arms suddenly engulf her into his chest, the weighed feeling was relieved of her.

his soft breaths against her neck only acquired the way he couldn’t sleep without her.

“sunghoon?” y/n faintly whispered against him.

“we’re still mad at each other but i just can’t sleep alone tonight,” he hoarsely said back.

a smile curled onto her lips as she turned her body to face him. the boy’s eyes were closed but she could still find traces of tinted red all around.

✩ ‘it’s on your face, and i’m to blame’ ✩

“hoonie.”

✩ ‘i need to say’ ✩

slowly, he fluttered his eyes awake with a quiet sniffle in his nose. he raised his brows ever so slightly as a response, shattering her heart in the process.

she leaned in before placing a soothing kiss on the tip of his nose.

“let’s talk,” y/n uttered, lifting her drowsy body up to sit.

sunghoon softly groaned. “it’s late, baby.” he said in a low, attractive voice.

“i know, but i want us to talk this out so we can go to sleep without any worry.”

she pulled her boyfriend up so he could sit up as well.

he exhaled a heavy sigh of his before letting the quiet atmosphere take over for a second.

“you deserve someone who can provide more,” he broke out, causing her gaze on him to immediately soften. “someone who isn’t just a lost twenty-one year old figuring out life, someone like mark.”

sunghoon felt tears spark at the rim of his eyes once his confession was let out. “you shouldn’t be..,” he paused, throat closing at his reality check. “you shouldn’t be with someone like me. i’m still a college student and.., you just deserve better.”

y/n instantly felt her heart drop with his worried doubt. she let the boy stream down tears so he could cry it out and once he did so, she muttered — “hoon, please look at me..,”

but he avoided her stare, just for a second so he wouldn’t break down again. and when he finally looked at her, she embraced him into her arms.

she wrapped herself tightly around him, hinting that she wouldn’t ever leave like he said.

the male hugged back, arms clinging around her waist as he quietly sobbed a little more.

when y/n pulled away, her hands quickly cupped his cheeks — making him look at her with his eyes that were sparkled from the tears.

“you’re doing enough, sunghoon.” she confirmed with a sniffle. “everything you’re doing is enough. i don’t need or will ever want mark, i like working like this because it gives me motivation, and i love you.”

✩ ‘i’m the one who burned us down’ ✩

her last three words were emphasized before she contently sighed and continued — “i’m sorry that i stayed late on our anniversary. i shouldn’t have because i know this day was important to you too. i’m really sorry.”

✩ ‘but it’s not what i meant, i’m sorry that i hurt you’ ✩

the boy pressed his lips together to form a bread smile. “i’m sorry too, you’re a hard worker and that’s what i love about you. i shouldn’t have said those things earlier.”

y/n wore a half smile, shaking her head afterwards to say, “i know my work schedule is difficult with yours but we’ll make it through this okay? we always do because nonetheless, this is my life and i love that you’re in it.”

the girl placed a sweet and reassuring kiss on his cheek as she said, “you’re my boyfriend and i intend to keep it that way until we hit another chapter.”

✩ ‘i don’t wanna lose, i don’t wanna lose this with you’ ✩

sunghoon’s last tears dropped for the night as he pulled her into a crying kiss.

his lips touched hers and he immediately felt relieved. a quiet groan slipped by his lips in the process, allowing y/n to smile into their kiss.

his hands firmly cupped her cheeks while hers were entangled into his messy hair.

his thick brows were deliciously scrunched together in satisfaction before they both pulled away.

“another chapter, hm? want to start that right now?” the boy teased with a grin.

“sunghoon!” she shouted back, allowing her boyfriend to chortle out laughter.

“i’m kidding!” he flashed a wide smile at her before murmuring, “i’m tired anyway.”

y/n playfully rolled her eyes before smacking his arm. “sure.., let’s just go to sleep.”

she dragged sunghoon to their bedroom, slumping her body down immediately after.

the male giggled and laid down on his side, pulling her into his chest like he always did. her hands gently rested on him as he placed chaste kisses on her forehead.

“good night, pretty girl.”

“good night, baby.”

✩ ‘meet me in the afterglow’ ✩

★・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・★

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jinnie-ret · 8 months

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Hi! I was just wondering, could you write a oneshot of reader feeling really tired/kinda depressed, like too tired to get up of the bed to get a drink, too tired to even talk and skz just helping them through it and taking care of them? It could be 9th member or just the groupd friend. It's ok if you don't want to or don't feel comfortable with it. Thank you! Lots of love!

slump

stray kids x best friend!reader

genre: angst, fluff

content warnings: mental exhaustion

word count: 1.3k

summary: your best friends notice you've been acting different recently, and help you through your mental rut.

Thank you so much for requesting! I hope you enjoy this one. And if anyone is ever feeling this way, you can always message me, or reach out for help :)

Asks are shut, but if you want to be added to my taglist, let me know! And reblog and like if you enjoyed! <3

MAIN MASTERLIST

Knock. Knock. Knock.

"Love, can you open the door?" Changbin's soft voice called out quietly, yet you made no effort to move. You knew he could just as easily open your door and walk in, but he was waiting to see if you had the energy to do it yourself.

"I'll take that as a no," and he walked away from the door, probably back into the kitchen to inform the boys that their latest attempt didn't work.

It wasn't that you didn't want to see them. It was more that your social battery was drained. Not even a good night's sleep was helping you gain energy because, well, although you weren't having sleepless nights, there was still a lot of things weighing on your mind that was stopping you from wanting to do anything.

Buzz.

Oh. They were spamming the group chat again.

kangaroo🖤: remember to have something to eat!

bokkie🐲: pls eat smthn sweaty 💞

prince🖌️: lixie you did not jst call her sweaty that isn't gnna help 😭

mongmong🎤: ignore them sweetie just pls eat smthn if you have the energy yh?

cheese toastie🦊: our minnie is so sweet

quokka boy🥊: careful or he will chnge his mind 👀

kitty boy😼: i'm cooking u dinner rn

dwaekki💪: pls come out and see us love :(

And so the guilt set in once more. You could tell they were doing their best but for the past couple of days you didn't want to do anything at all. And whilst they had asked you, you shut them down every time and waved them off.

The next day, you were due to go into work, something your best friends were well aware of as they had checked your shared calender to see if there was anything upcoming that was overwhelming you.

When you rang into work to call in for a sick day, that was the first time the boys heard your voice in like 48 hours. Croaky. Dry. Exhausted.

Which is what prompted your next visit.

"Hey, Y/Nnie, I've brought you some water. You don't have to talk to us if you don't want to... but, yeah," Felix brought in a bottle filled with ice water and you could tell he didn't know what exactly to do in the situation without you responding to him.

You couldn't help but feel the gratitude within you after he awkwardly smiled at you, and so, you spoke up from your nest in bed.

"Thank you, Lixie."

Within a flash he turned around and grinned warmly at you, excited at just this simple interaction, because him and the boys had been worried sick the past few days. They knew everyone had their moments, but they had never seen you like this before.

After he left, you sipped at your water and continued to mindlessly scroll through your social media feed on your phone. There was still a numbness there. You recognised videos that would normally make you laugh yet no emotion filled you.

And that's what made you feel weirder.

You thought about other times people went into some sort of slump and they'd normally be sad, upset for some reason. But no, not you.

You felt emotionless. The loneliness wasn't what sucked you in yet it was like a part of your brain felt like it had shut off. And that lasted for the next few hours until the members caught you out of bed looking for something in the cupboard to eat.

"Oh, Y/N!" Han jumped back with a hand on his heart, yet you carried on in your sluggish efforts to make something to eat.

"You're out of bed?" Jeongin was shocked until he winced from the small slap on the back of his head from Changbin.

"Don't eat that, it's not good for you, here, heat this up," Lee Know took away the instant noodles from your grasp and instead pulled out a container with a portion of dinner he had made last night. He seemed to be taking control yet he wanted to see you do something for yourself. He hoped it was motivating and that the simplest thing of heating up your own food would lead you towards an upward trajectory of going back to your usual self.

You slowly padded across the kitchen to the microwave and shoved the food in, a gentle hand tapping you on the shoulder as you shut the machine's door.

"Let's talk, Y/N," Chan guided you to the sofa in the lounge connected to the kitchen, the rest of your friends following through. There was no choice in the matter, yet the eldest remained calm which reassured you slightly.

"We've been worried about you," Hyunjin spoke for everyone when he said that.

"Sorry," you whisper, picking at the threads of your baggy jumper sleeve.

"No, don't apologise. We just want to know what's going on in that head of yours," Seungmin leans forward as he speaks quietly.

You simply shrug.

"Y/Nnie?" Chan further prompted.

"I don't know," you shrugged again, not even knowing how to explain what was going on.

"You don't know?" Felix looked around at the other members, confused.

Just then, the microwave dinged, and you stood up to go and get your food, but Lee Know's hands on your shoulders stopped you.

"Don't worry about that now. Just talk to us, anything," his thumbs rubbed soothing circles before he moved away.

"I-I don't know what you want me to say," you brought your legs up to your chest.

"We know you had work today," Changbin mentioned.

"It's ok, I called in sick," you mumbled, avoiding eye contact.

"Do you have a temperature?" Han frowned, feeling your forehead but that answered his question.

"I just didn't feel like it... but not in like a lazy way but I just couldn't... mentally do it?" your answer came out as a rushed question, not even sure yourself but it made sense to the rest of the boys.

"Ah, sweetie, you should have said," Hyunjin pouted, feeling bad that you were struggling.

"Not that easy though, is it?" you looked up and saw Chan crouched down in front of you.

"It's not, we know that, but we want you to always know that you've got us to fall back on, no matter what, ok?" he grabbed your hands as he said this, squeezing them so that you knew he was physically there.

"Y/Nnie... you know you don't have to always have energy, right? It's ok to have your down days," Han said seriously, which even caused Chan to look at him surprisingly as he moved away from in front of you.

"I feel like..." you began, but trailed off shaking your head.

"Tell us, talk to us love," Changbin insisted.

"I feel like I have to keep telling myself I can do it, but I know I'm lying to myself, I guess?" you sighed, leaning further back into the sofa.

"You can do it, we all know you can," Jeongin encouraged you sweetly.

"But if you can't right now, that's also fine," Seungmin added on.

And there was no need for you to verbally respond, because these safety oozing from them was wrapping you in a nice comfy blanket.

Oh, and Felix was also wrapping you in a blanket, that could have been why you felt the sudden warmth.

"Right, now you can eat," Lee Know nodded, satisfied with how the conversation had played out.

"Me too, hyung!" Han and Hyunjin both dashed after Lee Know, begging him for food too, and with that you smiled.

"There you are," Changbin titled your head up as you smiled, his face mirroring yours.

"If all it took was for Han and Hyunjin to be whiny and complain, we could have had this conversation a lot sooner," Seungmin rolled his eyes fondly, thinking of the two 00 liners who were bickering earlier that day.

"Don't ruin the moment Seungmin," Chan tutted jokingly.

But it didn't ruin the moment. Seeing them act normally around you again after they had cleared up what was going on made you feel better.

You felt, once again.

tagged: @skz-streamer @kiraisastay @hannahhbahng @backintomykpopphaseagain @sakufilms @hanjiquokkaaa @arloo00 @dunno-wut-to-do @splat00z

#skz #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #stray kids #skz fluff #skz angst #straykids imagines #stray kids fluff #stray kids imagines #skz fic

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slashers-and-rats · 9 months

Text

Another Texan Night

thomas hewitt x fem!reader | sfw | no dreams this time, baby

rat chat: i saw a lot of people wanted me to give thomas a break, and they were right. he deserves some good stuff. so here it is. grade a fluff for my big boy.

the world was in thomas’s hands. it weighed heavy on his palms; he nearly had to cup them to keep it from all slipping away. he couldn’t let it get away from him this time. he saw the earth, mother nature, the sway of the trees and the rolling of waves all bundled in his arms. he wouldn’t let it get away, not this time.

you’d never leave him again.

your heart beat created a steady rhythm against his own chest. he wondered if, with enough determination, he could align both of your pulses. he’d stop his heart for you. he’d pinch his veins until they were flowing at the same speed yours did. anything to be closer to you, to be connected to you as deeply as he possibly could.

this was all so overwhelming for him. he had to keep remembering to breathe. thomas wasn’t supposed to be out right now, and this time it wasn’t a dream. he couldn’t just shake off the guilt of wanting to leave, this time it was real.

it was technically hoyt’s idea to get him out of the house. the plan had been somewhat sloppily put together. he remembered when it had first been pitched to him.

hoyt had been spying on thomas as he laboured in the basement. he had noticed his nephew under the weather, but the guy didn’t speak much, what could he really do? he had tried to cheer him up, in his own way. he complimented thomas for his quick work of taking down “prey”, and slid thomas a chocolate bar he had smuggled from the gas station when luda mae wasn’t looking. he even offered thomas a beer, chuckling when he groaned in rejection, shaking his head dramatically. his nephew could be such a prude.

hoyt watched thomas closely, seeing him slam the butcher’s knife down with uneven rhythm. it was almost uncomfortable how out of it the man was. thomas wasn’t an energetic boy, he didn’t exactly burst with enthusiasm, but he was always good with his hands. he was coordinated in his practice, and didn’t like to mess up when handling their hunts. after all, if the meat was bad, what would luda mae use to make her best stews and steaks?

it was when tommy slammed the knife down one last time, wedging it deep into the wood of the table, that hoyt really jumped. the guy was scary at the end of the day. hoyt might’ve been tough, but his nephew was strong. there was a big difference, and it showed in the way the surface of the cutting board snapped under the weight of his blade.

thomas had huffed, sounding like a frustrated animal. he paced the room, never noticing his uncle looming in the shadows. if he had, he wouldn’t have tugged your photo out of its hiding place. it had been something private to him. he kept it tucked into the breast pocket of his shirt, close to his heart, along with the phone number and address you had given him long ago when he had lost you. every day he wished he could find you again, that he had the bravery to sneak away and visit you like he wanted to, like he dreamed of.

the paper was worn from his fingers rubbing over it, and your picture was kept as pristine as possible. it was one he had stolen from the slaughterhouse. there had been a wall in the break room of photos of workers, headshots and such, and he had snatched yours away. he liked the way you smiled. it made his head feel light.

he was staring at it for quite awhile, too long for hoyt’s liking, and the man finally walked up and slapped a hand down on his nephew’s shoulder. tommy nearly jumped out of his boots, spinning around and hiding his treasures tight to his chest.

“a girl, huh? that’s what you’ve been mopin’ about?” hoyt questioned, sounding somewhat unimpressed. of all the things for someone like thomas to be worried about, some woman was one of them. it didn’t make sense to him, but there was something about how in despair his nephew looked- “you know where she lives?”

that had been the start to this whole endeavour. it took a few nights for it to all get planned out. thomas would meet with his uncle in the dining room, and hoyt would map out their plan of escape. it was simple. they’d arrange a rendezvous, and sneak out into the night when no one was awake to even see them gone. hoyt had called ahead of time, trying his best to sound proper and respectable when he explained the situation.

thomas had been so nervous then. he had sat, wringing out his fingers and squeezing the end of his shirt in his hands. hoyt had taken the landline and pulled it as far away from his sister’s room as possible, just to make sure she wouldn’t hear. hoyt may have been her brother, but that woman was terrifying, and her house was run by her rules. tommy wasn’t supposed to be fraternizing with strangers, especially women, and something about this whole thing made the stakes feel high. they were playing a dangerous game. but they were both determined, albeit for different reasons. hoyt needed his nephew’s head back down to earth, and tommy… well, you could say tommy wanted the same. after all, you were his world. he wanted you back near him so badly.

when you had answered the phone, hoyt had flashed a thumbs up to tommy. it made the man jump a little, he could barely contain his excitement. there was also an advancing sense of anxiety. what if you didn’t remember him? what if you didn’t like him like he thought you did? what if-

“hey, uh, I’m just callin’ on behalf of a guy named thomas hewitt. you don’t happen to remember that name, do ya?” hoyt had paused, and it made thomas hold his breath. when his uncle smiled, a wave of relief washed over him. he gave his nephew a wink, and continued. “oh, good, good. well, you know him, ain’t much of a talker, so he got me to be the messenger. actually, he wanted to ask you somethin’. i know it’s a little late in the night, but he was wonderin’ if you’d wanna see him? he don’t usually got days off, poor guys workin’ himself to the bone, but he had some time and-“ hoyt was cut off, and thomas could hear your muffled babbling on the other end of the phone. he hadn’t even noticed he had been sweating until a bead ran down and landed on his hands. “not tonight, eh? yeah, it’s a bit short notice- what about tomorrow than? how’s that work?” hoyt listened carefully, before giving thomas another reassuring smirk. he nodded along to whatever you were saying, before finally replying with a sense of finality. “perfect! he’ll be there this time tomorrow. see you then. okay, bye bye.”

hoyt hung up, and let out a harsh huff after. thomas felt like he had just been given wings. his heart was pounding hard in his chest, threatening to rip out and do a little irish jig on the floor. he felt like had just been handed his own personally tailored miracle. it was hard to even fathom. he was pulled back down to earth when hoyt had said, “don’t say i don’t do nothin’ for you.”

with that, the pieces had fallen into place with ease. the next day, after waiting an hour to make sure luda mae was dead asleep, tommy and hoyt piled into the truck and made their way to your home. they weaved down the dirt trails slowly and quietly, keeping the headlights off just in case, and the second they were far enough away hoyt began pumping gas. this couldn’t be a long trip, they didn’t have much time. tommy’s mama was an early riser, and if she noticed her boy wasn’t there, there would be hell to pay. no, they had to be quick, methodical.

hoyt pulled up a block away from your place. the two had agreed it was better to make it seem like thomas had come alone. after all, two brooding men showing up on your doorstep in the dead of night wasn’t exactly the best start to a romance.

hoyt had turned to thomas, eyeing him over and trying to tidy him up the best he could. “you look like a mess, but there ain’t much you can do about it…” he had muttered, tussling up his nephew’s hair. he straightened out tommy’s shirt collar, brushed off any flecks of dirt that may have gathered.

tommy had chosen a special outfit. luda mae had shown him old romance movies when he was younger, and he had learned that a well-dressed man could get any woman. he wanted you, though, and so he had made sure he was wearing something he thought you’d like. his button-up was a bit tight, and his pants rested just underneath his tummy, and his shoes still had some blood on them from his work- but he had tried. he had tried so hard.

he had hopped out of the truck into the open night air, breathing it in deep. it ran through his lungs, and with it a feeling he had never experienced before. sure, he had been nervous before- nervous when he was younger and would see his bullies running his way, nervous when he worked at the factory and would see the other workers eyeing him up like a freak-show display- but this was so much different. the closer he walked to your house, the more it wrapped around his throat and made him lose all air. he felt almost small, vulnerable, things he hadn’t felt in a very long time.

he counted the houses carefully, repeating your address over and over in his mind until he spotted the numbers over the door of a quaint cottage-style home. it was small, you had clearly been affected just as his family had by the depression that swept through the town, but it seemed you weren’t doing too bad. he could see the light on in the living room, and your shadow dancing along the curtains as you went about your nightly routine. he walked up slow, prolonging this meeting he had waited so long for. he wished he was back in his dreams, maybe he’d have more confidence if he knew he could just wake up from this if it went poorly.

thomas stood in front of your door for a few minutes before he dared knock. he listened with bated breath as you walked over, and unlocked the door. when it opened, and he saw you… well, he just about fainted.

you had been wearing a soft night gown. it was nothing scandalous, it went down just above your knees, but the way it hugged your body… you looked so soft. you had a house coat on as well, wrapped around your arms and crossed over your stomach. you had it hugged close to you when you answered, and he watched it fall away in slow motion when you opened your arms and pulled him in for an embrace. he had managed to catch the way it fell off your shoulders, and revealed a wide expanse of skin that started at your neck and ran down to the tops of your chest. the spaghetti straps of the gown were loose, letting the front of your shirt hang low over your front. he traced over every detail of your skin, right up until you had pulled him down into a tight hug.

that’s where he was. he remembered now. you were hugging him, and he was squeezing you back just as tight. the gesture had been so sudden, it made him feel as if he had been shot. it knocked the wind out of him, and he wondered if he had made any sound. he couldn’t remember, as all he could think about was how close you were to him.

you felt right in his arms. there was something so good about having you close, and sharing in that sweet body heat that radiated off of your skin. you had always been so warm, inside and out. he wished he could never let go.

“i missed you.” the words were spoken soft into his shoulder. they planted themselves deep into his rib cage, right next to his heart. they seared into his skin.

you pulled away from the hug, but didn’t go far. if tommy was fully coherent, and not in some love filled haze, he would’ve noticed that he had been gripping your hips, keeping you from leaving him fully. it was so instinctual for him. you never brought it up either.

“i was worried i wouldn’t see you again. you never rang me, and i realized… well, you didn’t talk at the slaughterhouse, why would it change over the phone?” you smiled. it was a genuine smile, and he matched it under the mask. he wanted to run his fingers over your lips and trace out every pull of muscle. “that guy who called me seems pretty nice, by the way. you’ll have to thank him for bringing you back to me,” you added, giggling a little.

that sound felt like someone blowing bubbles against tommy’s face. it felt so light. if he could find the words, he would’ve told you he loved you the second he heard it. it would’ve been sudden and out of place, and he would’ve been embarrassed the second he realized what he said, but he would’ve. he wouldn’t have been over-exaggerating either.

“it’s late, and i can’t hang out with you for long but… why don’t you come in? i put tea on, and i got some treats put away for special occasions. i think this justifies taking them out. i got my big guy back.”

“your big guy”. thomas nearly crumbled. he nodded enthusiastically, and let his hands drop down to fiddle with the front of his shirt. you took one of them in yours. his was so much bigger. you weren’t a small girl, you were plump and soft and carried yourself well, but he still lumbered over you. thomas was just big. he was a big guy. your big guy. oh, that would never get old, he just knew it.

you lead him into the house, and he felt as though he was stepping into the gates of heaven.

to say you were his world was underselling it. you weren’t that.

you were his paradise.

#thomas hewitt #thomas hewitt x y/n #thomas hewitt x reader #slasher x reader #slashers

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lewiscarrolatemybrain · 5 months

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Thinking about a time travel Pirate-King-Luffy-Raises-ASL fic but specifically like.

He knows the things he wants to fix in Ace and Sabo's lives. He knows he's going to shower them both in love and affection, reassure them constantly that they are safe, that they are wanted. He knows he never wants Ace to grow into that sad, angry, lonely little boy who believed his existence was a curse; never wants Sabo to be taken from them only to return weighed down with mountains of guilt and need to atone for something that was never his fault. He knows he's gonna do everything in his power to give his brothers -- his sons, now -- the carefree childhoods they deserve, and when they grow into young men and set off to chase whatever dreams they dream in this life, they'll do it with his full support and the knowledge that they can call on him if they ever need him, and he'll always come running.

Then he finds himself looking down at this timelines version of Monkey D. Luffy, a tiny little baby who blinks at the world with big, startled eyes and grins a gummy smile at everyone he sees.

And Luffy realizes, with a kind of slow-dawning horror, that uh... actually, his childhood sucked too.

I don't really have a ton of plot for this but just the surrealism of holding himself as a baby and coming to the awful epiphany that he... deserved better? That his childhood was Not Good? That it wasn't just his brothers who were failed by the world in general -- but that he, Monkey D. Luffy, should not have been dumped in the care of a girl barely old enough to raise herself, much less a child. He should not have grown up with an empty, howling loneliness in him that drove him to do absolutely insane shit like try to stab his own eye out to prove himself worthy of joining a pirate crew, because he was so, so desperate to convince Shanks not to be yet another person who turned around and left Luffy all alone. He shouldn't have been tossed on his ass in a bandit's hut and told to fend for himself. It wasn't Dadan's fault, or Shank's, or Makino's. It maybe wasn't even Gramps's. But it still shouldn't have happened. Luffy deserved better.

This Luffy will get better, he'll grow up loved and kept right from the start, but... wow. Luffy had a bad childhood. Crazy. And he just lived like that? A whole lifetime? He never dealt with it? Crazy. He's gonna go sit down with his sons and try not to think about it.

#one piece #monkey d. luffy #asl brothers #asl trio #portgas d ace #sabo the revolutionary #time travel au

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eitaababe · 1 year

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SOMEBODY ELSE !

— chapter 11. deja vu.

a/n — sorry neteyam girlies (im not)

series masterlist. | previous / next

written portion below. —

You walked out of the building, finally wearing an outfit appropriate for the weather. You pulled the hood of your jacket up, shielding your face from the wind when you noticed Ao'nung's car pull up.

The window in front of you rolled down, revealing the grinning boy. "Get in the car loser, we're going shopping."

"Since when did you know mean girls?"

"Since Tsireya was my sister," he snorted, parking the car in an empty space. "So, I figure we should probably talk about what you wanted right now?"

"Oh yeah," you cleared your throat, the joking atmosphere quickly dissipating. "It's just— me and Neteyam got into an argument yesterday? Violet told him some dumb shit, like you were using me or it was all just a bet you were going for— and I defended you and that's why me and him fought— but now I can't stop thinking about it and I feel horrible for even thinking that about you."

Ao'nung listened carefully, not once interrupting in your rambling. "Fucking hell," he mumbled, running a hand over his face. "Me and Violet dated for like— a month at best? And we weren't all that serious, okay? We were friends with benefits and she wanted more one day and I just thought, why not, you know? It's fucked up but I didn't like her all that much— and when I finally told her and broke it off she felt used and went off telling all the other girls I went for that I was doing the same exact thing to them that I did to her."

Your eyes widened at the revelation, chewing on your cheek nervously. He hadn't directly addressed your worrying, which only made you feel worse, but nevertheless you stayed silent, letting him continue.

"But I swear on my life, y/n, I'm not using you. I never was. If I'm serious about anything, it's you. I liked you from the start, and I never would've started anything if I felt anything less."

You released a breath you weren't even aware you were holding, and nodded happily. "That's uh— good to know." You grinned, trying to hide the blush painting your cheeks when you met his smug eyes.

Yet the more you thought about it, the more the guilt weighed you down. Ao'nung was so patient, so understanding, how were you not ready? You still somehow had feelings for a man who hurt you over and over again (granted unknowingly) and you still couldn't move on?

Noticing your silence, Ao'nung placed a hand over yours. "Everything ok?"

Sighing, you softly intertwined your fingers together with his. "I feel horrible," you mumbled quietly, causing him to dip his head closer to your face. "I mean, you're just so- so understanding? You're so patient, you stick around when I tell you I'm not ready, and you don't get mad when I accuse you of really stupid things, and I just get why you're waiting on me when you could be with another girl who's ready now."

"Y/n," he cooed, his hand gently grabbing you by your chin to look up at him. "I wait for you because I want to. You're not horrible to me, I love your company, and you're still getting over a breakup. Knowing you like me back is enough for me."

His words of reassurance did little to ease your guilt, but you nodded anyways. "Yeah, yeah you're right. Sorry."

"Don't be sorry," he smiled, pressing a loving kiss to your knuckles. "Now let's go get some coffee, mkay? There's no way you had time to get it before I picked you up, you're in a fight with your coffee supplier."

"Ugh, don't remind me." You groaned, bringing your legs close to your chest, almost resembling a ball and resting your head on Ao'nungs arm as he pulled out from the parking lot, going to the cafe.

As you guys walked into the cafe, you'd finally given yourself a break, trying to forget about your worries and the fight from yesterday.

All of that went out the window when you saw Neteyam animatedly talking to Violet inside.

And it reminded you of a time you knew all too well.

FUN FACTS !

— neteyam and y/n would sit at the same booth everytime they went to the cafe and neteyam's been sitting with violet there the past couple times

— ao'nung convinced y/n to get his drink order this time and she hated it

— violet saw y/n and ao'nung but neteyam didn't

—

a/n — lowk end is cringe bUT CLIFFHANGER MWUAHAHA

taglist #1 / closed ! @n7ytiri @ilovejakesullysdick @possysblog @love-chx @stars4deku @evphology @afro-hispwriter @ydsm-29 @tsireyasgf @goldeneywa @doulcha @krazy-kattzz @fucksnow @squid4 @blairrrrrr @neteyamforlife @dreamtogether2000 @444lyra @ambria @cawi00 @calums-betch @powowowy @fadingpalacebonkpsychic @elegantkidfansoul @kolsmikaelson @mirikusashes @yukichan67 @goodiesinthecloset21 @netemoon @littlethingsinlife @coconut-dreamz @anm3mi @jjkclub @il0veheartz @liyahsocorro @nao-cchi @drugs-for-memes @zendayaswrld101 @grierpilots @misscaller06 @lightskinloak @mommyneytiri @inluvwithneteyam @halibanana @iheartamajiki @ipoopedmypants47 @neigesprincess @lookiiheh @ghostjoohoney

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afro-hispwriter · 2 years

Text

A Good Wife (Part 2)

gif by @vera-kozhemiakina

(Can you guys guess whats going to happen by the gifs;)

Aemond Targaryen x Targaryen!Reader

Aegon ii Targaryen x Targaryen!Reader

(Daemon and Laenas daughter)

Warnings- angst, mentions of Aemonds past cheating, 69, y/n gives Aemond a taste of pain, Aegons voice, Aegon is ooc big time

Part 2 of A Good Wife

part 3

Italics=Flashback

After you left, Aemond couldn't sleep, there was so much guilt weighing on him. He thought about everything he did wrong and everything he could have said to make it better. Why was it so hard? Why was it so hard to say he loves you?

When the sun came up he decided it would be his off day, a day to spend with his sons and think about how he was going to talk to you. He got ready, not bothering to wear his patch. He walked into this sons' room and saw Aerys, already awake and squirming in the bed.

"Hello my little prince." He says and grabs his son from the crib. Aerys giggles and places his hands on his fathers face. The jewel in the place of Aemonds eye had always intrigued the toddler, never scared him. Aerys then looked up at his baby and put on a goofy smile. He remembered when you told him what that means. It means the baby found something funny or they have soiled their pants. Aemond felt has arm grow warm and he groaned. He laid Aerys back down and took the tunic off of him, the cloth that covered Aerys beneath was clearly no longer able to use. Aemond scrunched his face and slid the cloth off.

"Father?" Rhaegar asked and he rubbed his eyes.

"Morning." Said Aemond has he cleaned Viserys.

"Where is momma?" Aemond turned to his first son.

"Your mother deserves some time to herself so im taking the whole day to spend it with you two."

"Really?"

"Yes my little dragon." Aemond helped Rhaegar get ready and grabbed Aerys. He stepped outside the room, he turned a corner and almost knocked someone down. He expected it to be a servant but it was you. "My lo-."

"Oh my little dragons, did your father wake you." You cooed at your sons, completely cutting Aemond off. Rhaegar wrapped his arms around you thighs and Aerys reached out for you.

"Yes but he said he's taken the day off for us." Rhaegar looked up with his violet eyes.

"Oh has he." You look up and him. Aemond takes you in, you're wearing the nightdress from the previous night, you looked relaxed and your hair was frizzy and slightly sticking out.

"Yes im going to take them around the Keep, let you relax." He squinted his eye slightly.

"Hmm." You kissed Aerys’ cheek making the baby giggle. "Rhaenerya wants us all in the dinning hall for breakfast."

"Would you like to walk together?" He asks and waits for an answer. You pass Aerys back to him and lean down to kiss Rhaegars head.

"No, but I'll see you three there, I need to make myself decent."

"You always look decent."

"I still need to get ready." You say and scratch your neck, your hand pushing hair out of the way. Letting Aemond see the red, purple forming mark. His fist tightened and so did his jaw. You watched him tense up completely. "I'll see you." You walked past him and to your room.

Your sobs were getting louder and louder. Your throat was raw and eyes were blurry. You were hurt, even more hurt when he didn't go after you.

You reached the hall where your father, Daemon, slept along with his Queen wife, Rhaenyra. The Queensgaurd saw you coming and immediately stepped in your path.

"No one is to disturb the queen at this hour princess."

"N-No im here for my f-father, p-please let me t-talk to him." You wiped your face and the snot that was running down.

"No." He says and your about to try and reason with him but the door opened revealing Daemon.

"What in the seven hells is happening?" He pushed by some of the guards until he saw you. "Y/n?" He took in your state and immediately grabbed your face. "What happened? Are you alright?Where's Aemond? The boys?" He bombarded you with questions but you just closed you eyes and pushed your body against his and wrapped your arms around his torso.

"Aemonds been unfaithful." You say and Daemon wraps his arms around you.

"Whats going on?" You hear Rhaenyra say and you look over your father's shoulder. "Oh Y/n, Daemon bring her in." She steps out the way and Daemon pulls away before wrapping an arm around your shoulder to lead you into the large room. Rhaenyra cleared a chair and you sat down in it.

"How many do I need to kill?" Daemon says and grabbed the Dark Sister sword, Rhaenyra slapped her husband softly on his side.

"I don't know how many whores he's fucked, but the one I want dead isn't in KingsLanding."

"What is her name?" You look up at him and shake your head.

"Are you going to kill her?" Daemon laughs and grabs your hand.

"Daughter, you know me better than that, and if you want her dead who am I to deny you?"

"The one I truly want dead is my husband."

"I will gladly take his life as well." You looked at him and raised your eyebrow.

"I don't want him dead, I love him, even if he doesn't love me." You say sadly and Rhaenyra rubs your back. "I want him to hurt."

"What do you need?" Asks Rhaenyra and you look at him.

"I just ask for no judgement or interference."

"Of course not."

"Well, I guess I'll see you in the morning." You kissed Rhaenyras cheek then stood up and did the same to Daemon. You said you goodnights and you walked out the door.

You strolled down the halls, trying to find someone to devise your... plan. All the walking around the keep was tiring, you needed sleep. Especially after everything you've gone through. You on your way to the hall where guests usually stay when you heard clanging. You walked around the corner to see Aegon. Drunk. Vulnerable. Clumsy. Most likely coming back from a brothel. Ever since getting his annulment from Helaena granted, the prince is now free to do what he wants.

Perfect.

"Aegon, dear cousin do you need assistance?" Your older cousin turned around to see you.

"Oh cousin, what are you doing out here?" He chuckled deeply and tried to lean against the walk hut stumbled. "Your husband not satisfying you?"

"No." You say and that shocks him.

"No? Well I assure you if you opens the night with me, you will surely be, satisfied." With every word Aegon took a step forward towards you. You seemed to give it a thought and Aegon expected you to turn him down(as you always do).

"Take me to bed then." You say and grab his hand and try to tug him but he pulls you back.

"Are you serious?" You places your hands on his chest and push your face close to his.

"My husband has been unfaithful to me, fucking around and having fun, while I have to stay behind take care of our children, and uphold an appearance. I deserve some fun to." With your words you pushed your lips against his. They were soft and tasted like wine.

He turned you around and pushed you against the wall, never breaking the kiss. He reached down and grabbed your ass through the thin material of the dress. He then bent his knees and pulls you up to signal to jump up. He pushed his crotch against yours letting you feel his growing hard on.

Aegon was sobering up as the moment went on. He slowly started walking away in the direction of his chambers. You realized it would be faster if you both just walked, so you hopped down. He grabbed your wrist and pulled you along with him.

He practically kicked his door open when he got there. He started kissing down your neck and you unbuckled the hood he had on. Aegon sat down and started taking his boots off while you went back to the door and made sure it was closed and locked. You turned back to see him taking his shirt off, to say you did gawk at his bare chest and stomach is an understatement.

"Who would have known the whorish prince looked like this under his clothes?" You say and place two fingers under his chin and tilted his head up, making him look up at you with his purple eyes. His hands started to come up to your waist and just as he was about to set them on you, you shoved him back on the bed. You then climbed on top of him and sat down.

"Aemonds going to kill me." Mumbled Aegon and you placed your hands on his chest before starting to grind on him. "Aemonds going to kill me." He was now completely sober, aware of everything. He tried to scramble away from you but you grabbed his arms and pinned him down.

"He's not going to kill you, I'll make sure of it." He stopped struggling and looked you in the eyes. Then watched you sit back and grab the fabric of your dress. You pulled it up and over your head. Aegons eyes almost popped out of his head as he watched your breasts move up and down.

He's not sure what came over him. He suddenly flipped you over so you were on your back. He fumbled with his pants before tearing them off.

His cock popped out, it was leaking precum already. He was long and thick, but not longer than your husband.

Aegon grabbed your leg and brought it up to his hip before grabbed his cock and jerking his wrist. He brought the tip to pass between your folds but before he could push in you stopped him.

"I will not be treated like on of your whores. Lay down." You instruct hum and Aegon looks at you in confusion. When he sees you are serious he draws back before climbing in the bed next to you. You went onto your knees on the bed and shuffled over his body. Your cunt just above his mouth.

At this point Aegon knew what was going to happen. His tongue pushed its way out of his mouth, waiting. You rested your hands on his stomach and sat back on his face. You instantly felt his tongue protrude through your folds.

"Ooo." Your mouth slacked as Aegons tongue swirled around. He grabbed your hips and held you down tighter against him. Your eyes wondered to his lower body, his cock would jump ever so often. You reached out and grabbed the base. Aegon lifted his hips into the air at the feeling of your cold hand. You started moving your hand up and down his shaft, brushing your thumb over the head.

"Fuck." He said into your cunt. He then shook his head, pushing his nose right in. You leaned forward, resting your chest on his stomach. You wrapped your lips around the tip then engulfed the whole thing. You gagged as the tip hit the back of your throat but you didn't pull back. Aegon pulled his face away and smacked your ass. "Taking my cock already." You hummed and pushed yourself back down on his face. He opened his mouth widely and grabbed your thighs.

You started playing around with his balls. Aegon immediately tensed his stomach and pushed his hips up, forcing his cock farther down your throat. You gagged loudly, tears running down your face along with saliva running down Aegons cock.

He lifted his legs and his feet firm on the bed. He closed his thigh against your head and when you tried to pull back he started thrusting roughly into your mouth. The obscene noises coming from you was music to Aegons ears. It spurred him on to go faster.

A knot in your belly started forming. You started grinding back on his face, practically riding it. He opened his mouth wider and slipped his tongue inside your hole. You smacked a hand on his thigh and the other hit the bed. You moaned around his cock as you came, rolling your hips around.

Aegon drank all of the juices that flooded his mouth. You kept grinding down on his face, he felt himself get lightheaded. He sloppily thrusted in to your mouth until he came, hard. Spurts of his cum filled your mouth and you swallowed all of it. Aegon patted your thigh roughly and you moved off, he took in a big breath.

"Not the worse way to go out." He says and you pull yourself off his cock.

"I underestimated your skills to make a woman finish." You leaned back on your hands and Aegon shuffled over to rest against the headboard. You go to stand up but he grabs your hand.

"Stay." You look at him in disbelief.

"Since when did you ask a woman to stay?" You ask and sit back on the bed. He lets out a chuckle and wraps an arm around your waist and tugs you towards him.

"You did say you underestimated me." You smiled and settled in next to him. He caressed your waist with his thumb and you slowly gained confidence to lay your head on his shoulder.

"Aegon." You say.

"Hmm?"

"Did you know about Aemond?" You ask him and he shifted.

"I did, I saw him a few times in the brothels." He confesses and your heart clenches. "And I followed him to Harrenhall one time."

"Why didn't you tell me?" You lifted your head up and look at him with glossy eyes.

"I like seeing you smile." He says and you let put a breath. "Im not sure what's wrong with my little brother, he was the most beautiful woman in all of Westeros and this is what he does."

You couldn't help but let out a smile.

When you woke up you were cuddled up into Aegon. The sun was shining through the curtains, flashing you. You brought your hand up to his bare stomach and dragged and traced your fingers along the muscles. You then slowly lifted your self up and stretched. Aegon shifted and opened an eye.

"Leaving already?" He asks and grabs your hand and places a kiss on it.

"Yes, I must tend to my sons." You say and grabbed your nightgown. You look back at him to see him watching you. "I'll see you again, don't worry." You lean down and kiss him on the lips.

You thought about the previous night as you walked through the halls. Part of you felt guilty but the other part of you felt relieved in a way. But when you bumped into Aemond, you couldn’t help but feel conflicted if you should tell him right then and there.

So, you gave him an idea of what had happened. You pushed your hair to the side and watched him immediately dart his eyes to the mark. The mark his brother made.

Everyone was already seated in the dining hall, minus Aegon but that was to be expected. The kids has their own table but Aerys sat with his father.

You went down the steps and your father opened a chair for you but you took a seat next to Aemond. He turned his head to you and reached out for your hand but you pulled away. You reached for Aerys and plucked him out of the lap of Aemond. The baby immediately grabbed the top hem of your dress and tugged on it.

“Y/n can we please talk?” Aemond leans over to you but you continue looking away. “I know that I was unfaithful, but I promise you my love it will stop. I will dedicate my self to our family.” You shifted in your seat.

“Can we please not talk about this right now.” You whispered, Aemond drew back.

“Will you at least tell me you were safe last night?”

“I was.” The next question Aemond wanted to ask was not appropriate for the setting but he needed to know.

“Were you with anybody?”

“Nephew, why don’t you leave your wife alone, she clearly doesn’t want to speak to you.” Says Daemon from across the table. Aemond glared at his uncle before looking away.

“My apologies.” He whispered to you but you don’t look at him. Breakfast was quiet, you had loosened down your dress slightly so you could take your breast out for Aerys to latch onto. When he finished your handmaid took him away so you could finish eating in peace.

As you were finishing your bread the doors opened, Aegon walked through them. He looked clean?

“Aegon, how nice of you to join us?” Asks Rhaenerya but she was just as confused as everyone else.

“I just wanted to spend some time with my family is all.” He walks to the table, to your side. There was an open chair next to you and you instantly knew where he was going. He pulled the chair out a plopped right down next to you. He grabbed a plate and started serving himself some eggs and sausage before leaning over to you. “I truly hope you come by my chambers again.”

Aemond couldn’t help but glare at his brother. But he also couldn’t help but notice that you didn’t move away from him like you usually do. It made him tighten his hand around his fork.

Aegon leaned back in his chair and slowly his hand rested on the back of your chair. The look Aemond gave him was enough for Aegon to know to back off, but he wanted to know how fat he could take it.

“Get your hand off my wife’s chair.” Warned Aemond and all eyes went to him.

“I think your wife would enjoy my hands all over her, just as she did last night.” Aemond slammed his hands on the table and kicked the chair back. He took his dagger out from god knows where and held it to his brother.

“Get the children out.” Orders Rhaenerya and the maids rush the children out and into the hall. Aemond takes long strides to his brother and holds the blade to his neck.

“You forced yourself upon my wife? Give me a reason I shouldn’t slit your throat now.” He says and pushes the blade harsher against Aegon.

“Forced? Your wife came to me.” Aegon says and Aemond breathes out a shaky breath before looking at you. Tears were running down your cheeks and you refused to look at him. Aegon took the opportunity and pushed his chair back against his brother giving him enough time to make a run for it. But Aemond was too quick and tackled him into the hard ground. Everyone gasped and Rhaenerya yelled orders to separate her brothers.

Aemond dragged Aegon across the floor and punched him in the face. You ran to them and grabbed Aemonds shoulder.

“Aemond stop it.” You tried to pull him off but he pushed you back making you stumble. Daemon walked over and roughly grabbed his nephew’s arm and pulled it hard towards him. Aemond stumbled and fell on his ass, he ripped his arm away from Daemon. Aegon scrambled to his feet and held his jaw. Aemond tried to go after his brother again but this time you stepped in front of him and placed a hand on his chest. “Don’t.”

“Brother you truly fucked up, you have the most beautiful girl in Westeros, she gave you two children and you decide to fuck whores and take a mistress.” Aemond tensed his jaw, knowing he was right. Aemond looked down at you and swallowed.

“Hmm.” He let out and walked away. You closed your eyes and took in a deep breath.

“Aegon-.” You started but he held his hand up and waved you off.

“Don’t worry about me, go to your husband.” He says and winces before walking past you and back to his spot at the table. You ran out of the hall and expected to see Aemond down the hall but it was empty already.

You ran to your chambers and burst through the door.

“Aemond?” You look around the large room and you were about to check the bathroom when he spoke.

“Outside.” You walked out onto the balcony and see him leaning against the railing. “Im sorry for what I have done.”

“The adultery or fighting your brother?” You ask and take your place next to him.

“All of it.” Aemond turned to you grabbed your hand. “I have clearly not been the best husband, or father.” You looked down at the ground. Aemond then slowly dropped down onto one knee. “I am going to make this promise to you. I will stop going to brothels. I will cut ties with Alys. I will dedicate my love to you and our sons, because my love you do not deserve the pain I have caused you, and I know understand the pain you are going through.” He places his free hand on his heart. “And im sorry that it was so hard for me to say that I love you.”

Tears streamed down your face and you tugged Aemond up to his feet and placed a hand on his cheek.

“Oh Aemond, I love you too. You get one more chance and don’t think for a second im just going to fall at your feet instantly, you need to work for it.” You tell him and he nods. “And I want to take Aegon as a lover.” Aemond looks down and bites his lips.

“Tis only fair.” He sighs and rests his forehead against yours. “Enough of that. May I kiss you?” You nod immediately and Aemond wasted no time to press his lips against yours.

A/n- sorry for any errors

#aemond targaryen x targaryen!reader #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen #aegon ii targaryen x reader #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon targaryen smut #a good wife mini series

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coralpaperthoughts · 9 days

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I will never understand ppl who hate/anti ANY of the members of the Gaang, or even any of the other kids. coz they are just kids. in the middle of a fucking war. of course they're gonna fuck up and make mistakes and be little shits, THEY ARE 12-16 !! ALL OF THE GAANG (including Zuko but excluding Suki) HAVEN'T HAD PROPER SOCIALISATION WITH OTHER KIDS THEIR AGE UNTIL THEY MET EACH OTHER !!

and yes, you could argue that Katara and Sokka had each other, but that's siblings and siblings are not the same as friends, and also Sokka was the only teen boy left in the tribe and I think Katara was the only teen girl too (might be wrong there tho)

you could also argue that Aang had friends before he got stuck in the iceberg so he did actually have that socialisation, but bro is fucking 12 and he was stuck in an iceberg for a hundred fucking years and had the whole avatar thing weighing down on his shoulders, cut the boy some slack ???

Toph and Zuko were both Rich Noble Kids™ so they automatically did not get proper socialisation with other kids their age. Toph was sheltered from the outside world because she's blind and a young girl, but yes she did go to that underground boxing ring but that was mainly adults, I highly doubt she was hanging about with kids there and definitely not in normal circumstances.

And although Mai and Ty Lee were there, they were Azula's "companions" (not originally meant to be friends but may have ended up as so after the war) and they weren't there for Zuko, they were there for Azula only. I'm pretty sure Zuko spent most of his time with tutors or with his mother before she left, he didn't get any socialisation with normal kids and he definitely did not get a normal childhood.

None of them got a normal childhood, so can you really blame any of them for being manipulative or assholes or doing dumb shit, whilst still being a kid/teen !!! and then being bad parents too, when they literally have no good role model to go off of (love Hakoda but bro was not there for his kids for a good couple of years and that does a lot to a kid)

edit: also Azula deserved a redemption/healing arc because she was a victim of abuse as much as Zuko was. she was in fact just a child, as much as the rest of them were, and deserved better. Thank you for coming to my Ted Talk 🙏

edit 2: Jet also deserved a chance at healing. like bro watched his village burn and was the sole survivor, he probably has mega survivor's guilt that isn't touched upon in the show, like his hate for the fire nation is pretty rational and his actions (to an extent) are justified. all I'm saying is that if he had anybody else in his corner, that wasn't more angsty, out-for-revenge teens or kids, he could have had a much nicer life. one that didn't lead him to his downfall.

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hughesluv · 9 months

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Broken Trust | Luke Hughes

luke hughes x fem!reader in which Luke ruined your relationship in the worse possible way. (words: 0.8k)

request: could u do a angest with luke! “are you fucking serious” “we built so much together, and you threw it all away…for her?” plz☺️♥️

a/n: not proofread! my first writing in forever! finally found the time to sit down and write, and of course it had to be so angsty😭 this broke my heart to write and i apologize in advance.

The time on your phone displayed a brutal 3:00 am, a merciless reminder of sleeplessness as you lay in your dimly lit room. The image was etched in your mind—the image of the man who had once been your entire world, his lips pressed against another woman's.

Ten missed calls, sixteen text messages, all from the very person responsible for this. The phone lay there, silent yet pulsating with the echoes of a love that had been shattered into a million irreparable pieces.

You placed your trust in him, more than anyone else in the world, only for him to carelessly toss it aside for a stranger he met in a bar? The front door slammed shut, reverberating through the house, and heavy footsteps echoed up the stairs. Yet, you remained seated, hunched over, tears streaming down your cheeks, each one hitting your phone. You watched the minutes on your phone's screen tick by, yet it felt like everything was standing still. What did you do to drive him to do this? You’d been nothing but a faithful and loving girlfriend.

Luke swung the door open. It forcefully smashed against the wall. But you couldn't summon the energy to care. Nothing mattered anymore.

“Y/N,” he began, his voice pitiful. “I swear it meant nothing. I love you more than anyone else.”

"Are you fucking serious?" The words, heavy with disbelief, escaped your trembling lips. “It meant nothing? Luke, if you loved me, you would’ve never done that. You would’ve never touched that girl!” You spat his name like poison on your tongue.Your blood ran cold as he frowned. What did he have to be sad about? He ruined your relationship. He ruined you.

“I’m just so-” he began, but your laughter cut through the air, devoid of any humor.

“You’re just what?” you retorted. “You’re just sorry?! Oh my god, that means so much to me, Luke!” You spat, sarcasm dripping from your voice. "We built so much together, and you threw it all away…for her?” The anguish in your voice reverberated through the room, mingling with the breeze that rustled through the curtains.

Outside, the world remained oblivious, stars glistening with beauty. But inside, your world was crumbling, crumbling like the fragile trust that had been shattered.

He stayed silent, his gaze fixed on the wooden floors, avoiding your accusing eyes. He looked like a child that got caught lying after breaking his mother’s vases.

“I shouldn’t even be surprised.” You muttered, your voice slicing through him like sharp knives. “Because everyone told me this was going to happen. Everyone said that you’re just another hockey boy with a lot of talent and a small brain.” The hurtful words rolled off your tongue so simply. You paused, breath hitching in your throat. “But I didn’t believe them. I didn’t believe them when they would say you were going to cheat. No, my Luke would never! He’s too sweet, he’s too kind.”

Soft sobs escaped both of your lips.

In the heavy silence that followed, Luke's shoulders slumped, weighed down not just by your words, but by the guilt he couldn't escape.

As your soft sobs filled the room, Luke finally found his voice, but it was shaky and hesitant. "Y/N, I don't know what came over me. It was a mistake—a terrible mistake. I can't even explain why I did it." He took a step toward you, but you backed away, your trust destroyed.

"You can't explain it?" Your voice wavered between anger and sadness. "That's not good enough, Luke. You owe me an explanation, a real one. Why did you ruin what we had?!”

He raked a hand through his disheveled hair, his eyes pleading for understanding. "I'm not making excuses, but I was confused, Y/N. Things were going wrong, and I made a stupid decision. I was weak."

A heavy silence hung in the air of the room.

Finally, you whispered, your voice filled with exhaustion, "I don't know if I can ever trust you again.”

His face contorted with anguish, and he fell to his knees beside you, tears glistening in his eyes. "I'll do anything to make it right, Y/N. I'll spend the rest of my life trying to make it up to you. Please, give me a chance to prove that I can change."

You stared at him through teary eyes. “I really want to forgive you. I really want to give you another chance,” you swallowed harshly. “But I can’t. Trust is what relationships are built on, and you ruined it. It’s never going to be the same.” Your soft tone tore through him.

What had he done?

Through choked out sobs you whispered, “I’m sorry.” Except you weren’t exactly sure what you were apologizing for.

The room echoed with the sounds of your broken hearts. You walked closer to him, pulling him into your chest. He didn’t have the strength to stand up, so he comfortably sobbed into your sweatshirt.

And that’s when you both realized it was over. It was truly over.

#hughesluv #taylor’s writings 📷#taylor’s beach bash!#luke hughes #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes blurb #luke hughes imagine #luke hughes imagines #hockey imagine #nhl imagine #new jersey devils #nhl x reader

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c0smoshit · 7 months

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Do you want me or do you not?

⋆ ࣪. ℙ𝕒𝕚𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕘 ≫ Cloud Strife/Reader

⋆ ࣪. ℙ𝕝𝕠𝕥 ≫ Cloud saw a letter with his name written on it, inside your diary

⋆ ࣪. 𝕎𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤 ≫ angst!, reader not being present, guilt, not proofread!!

⋆ ࣪. 𝔸/ℕ ≫ I'm back again!! I don't like this drabble really much but I've spent sm time writing it that I thought I'd post it lol. Sorry if it's a bit shitty 🤧

⋆ ࣪. 𝕎𝕠𝕣𝕕𝕔𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕥 ≫ 1718

"Do you want me or do you not?"

His hands held the once hated paper as if it was worth millions of gils.

Cold fairies travelled up his spine, reminding him of the future he will never have with you.

A part of him was still attached to the past, a great part. That was his way to cope with everything that had happened in his life, swimming in a deep, deep pool of sorrow and unreached dreams.

Maybe he shouldn't have taken that path a long time ago.

Maybe he shouldn't have fallen deeply from your silk hands, following people he knew didn't speak to him like you did.

Or maybe his destiny was to end up like this, alone again.

His steps were curiously more careful, his inner voice telling him ( shouting at him ) that he should've been more careful.

But who could really blame him?

. . .

"Hey there"

Sometimes you would greet him with a smile, which he didn't return. Or some whispered out "hi", but this wasn't your usual greeting.

Your arms enveloped him for an instant, your cheek against his chest as you pressed further into him.

He could smell you and he liked it, he always liked clean ambiences. Something weird as he constantly had to smell Midgar's dirty air, but he didn't mind smelling sweet, fruity shampoos.

You parted from him as his hands stayed still against his sides, afraid of moving them too much.

As soon as he sat on a stool in the bar, you had a drink already waiting for him.

And he hated it.

He knew that he was being such a dick, but his mind couldn't help but feel somewhat uncomfortable by your warm and so pleasant touches.

He wanted to be happy just for once, god you were giving him his favourite drink!

But weighs and weighs of stress and unsolved problems occupied more volume than his own welfare.

"Do you not like it?"

His gaze then looked at your confused eyes.

"I'm sorry I thought you did, I can always ch-"

"It's alright"

That's it?

You got nothing more to say than that?

His eyes looked at your ... he wasn't going to lie, he really did not know how to read the emotions you had hiding between those gorgerous orbs.

And he wished he did

So as your hands quickly retrieved themselves from changing the liquid, you were back to the chores Tifa probably told you to please do.

He wanted to go, not because you were there but because he was suddenly so nervous he needed "fresh" air.

So that's what he did, not before muttering a low "thanks" and wishing you a good night before stepping outside the bar once again.

He surely didn't want to go home, he didn't want the sun to come up, but on top of all of those wishes, he didn't know what he wanted to truly do.

So his feet, followed by a loud metallic "clank!" that quieted down the louder rumble of the city, dragged him through alleys.

His eyes looked everywhere, dimly lighted appartaments, people that were still returning home from work.

Would they visit their kids?

Their cats? Dogs?

Their partnerts?

He wouldn't wish anyone to be him.

And he ceirtanly day-dreamed about becoming some stranger on the streets.

He often recieved comments from some boys about how handsome he was, that he surely had a long pile of women on his palm.

But was it really worth it?

He didn't need women to love him, he didn't need nobody to love him.

Nobody but someone to hold at night, someone to lull him back to sleep after a rough night.

( he needed you )

. . .

And yet he was here, waiting for you to walk back into your room as he stared into the blank wall.

He remembers the day he moved in next door to you in Midgar, both of your rooms were so different you made him self-concious about his own decisions of decoration.

The way you would lit up the darkness of his empty room the moment you placed your feet inside of it.

But now they all remained just as memories

Memories that soon would dissapear into the void of his enigmatic mind.

He knew there was going to be a time that his brain, naturally, would forget how your face looked like.

How your voice sounded like.

The warmth of your shy touches against his skin.

And he didn't want that time to come, not ever.

But he was far, far away from where it all had started. The nostalgia of your steps as you guided him through Midgar, Nibelheim ( although he knew it like the back of his hand ) Gold saucer. . .

And finally, your room

Which was the place he was standing on right now, trying to read a note you wrote who knows when.

He knows he shouldn't be doing this, rumaging through your personal belongings. But once he had opened your diary and saw his name written on it, he had to take a look.

. . .

" He feels like a ray of sun after a storm, warm and welcoming you back to the sweet and beautiful world you once knew "

" Today I walked with him all through sector 5, he was so cute waiting for me while I asked him which clothes he liked most "

" I don't want to lose him ever again, not after what happened today "

" Maybe he likes Aerith, I see the way his eyes linger on her smile for quite a while "

" Maybe I'm being annoying but I don't get why he doesn't want me to take him home! We live right next to eachother >:( "

" Yesterday I laughed a lot when Tifa called him an angry chocobo, he sure looks like one of those big birds "

" I wonder what he thinks of me. .

. . .

And then he saw it, a ruffled up small paper smashed against the last two pages of the little book. But when he grabbed it, he wished he didn't.

At first he found it quite hard to read as he got used to how you would normally write, but it was clear that you were upset in this one.

There were also some harsh drawn lines on top of your words, a mess of your thoughts and anger. All of the slurred out words came to the same conclusion.

Did he want you or did he not?!?

It is all so confusing, first he speaks to me kindly, he even cracks a few jokes! But then he comes back to this... cold and closed personality. Maybe I'm being dumb about this, maybe he just sees me as a friend just like he would with Barret or Tifa. Well, Tifa... Why am I being jealous of her? I don't want to feel like this, she has all the rights to be close to him. Hell, she was her bestfriend ever since they were little kids. But then again, why does he speak to me like he isn't interested in me??

Why does he talk to me like that if so?

He turned his eyes out of those last words, now understanding why you acted like that whenever he was around you.

Why you were gone now.

The first feeling that flooded his entire organism was guilt, that familiar clench inside his lower stomach. Then he went over 10 different ways he could have had you with him right now.

And they all ended up talking

Just that simple, right?

But the way his mind would automatically go blank whenever you spoke to him about something serious, the innability to express his real feelings without letting out lies instead.

And to add up to how deeply dumb he felt, it was a surprise for him to have just discovered that you actually felt the same for him ever since.

. . .

Going inside a cave wasn't really a good idea thanks to all the cons it has, confusing as a maze, bad lighting and of course, how cold they usually are.

So he wasn't really surprised that after the group had divided itself, you all ended up kind of lost. Next to Barret, he tried to stay calm as he tried to search Tifa, Red and, of course, you.

"Where the hell are we?"

Barret's loud voice echoed through the hard walls, making Cloud flinch as he tried to guide themselves into the exit.

After walking for quite a while, he found a strange section inside the cave that was way colder than the other ones. And when he was about to step into the other section next to it, he heard you.

But he didn't hear the chatting he had thought he would have listened, instead he heard a loud gasp, followed by some shoes ruffling.

And by the time his eyes were searching for you, he looked up to see you almost crushing him down into the ground. But of course, he was fast enough to catch you.

A blur of voices surrounded his mind, but the only thing that it was paying attetion to was the way your cool body fit in between his arms.

Your arms curled up against his chest as your mouth moved, probably surprised to had fallen into his arms instead of hard rocks.

. . .

He never will forget how you felt on his arms.

Reminiscing about past events had became his usual routine whenever he thought about you, he couldn't do anything more either way.

But it was pointless now, no matter how hard he tried to imagine yourself again, you weren't there.

And it was now when he finally had figured out why his words seemed not to seep out of his mouth as smoothly as usual with you.

Right after the group had started to live normal lifes again after the meteor, you were gone, far away from his reach. Or maybe you were right beside him, who knows.

He often wondered if you still dreamt about what happened in Midgar, Nibelheim, Junon...

He needed to find you.

But where shall he start?

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mxtantrights · 2 months

Text

Bounded by blood and shadow (24)

azriel x magic!fem!reader

Cassian watches as the young children of the village run around Azriel. It makes him happy to see his brother so celebrated. He knows that all he’s gone through weighs on him heavily every day. Being here, being with you, helps relieve that pressure. All the anger and guilt that comes from his childhood before he came under the care of Rhys’ mother.

“It’s…nice. To see him like this.” Nesta says to him.

Cassian gives her a smile.

They both watch Azriel pick up one of the children and throw him over his shoulder. The shorter ones jumping up trying to reach, the ones on the taller side full on stretching their arms to get the little boy. Azriel laughs at the efforts.

“He deserves it.” Cassian adds.

“He always has.” Morrigan chimes in.

She tracks how the kids are rough housing him, but are being careful about his wings. They must know a lot about him, she thinks. They know about his wings. And they aren’t scared. They see his shadows and they aren’t scared either. One of the little girls is being chased around by a few of them. Morrigan’s face is laden with a smile.

“I was wondering where the three of you went.”

They all turn around. There’s Amren. She’s standing there in a deep red cloth outfit. It’s hot in Sangri now. It never really reaches cold, even if they are basically an island. Cassian had complained about his leathers making him sweat buckets and ditched them about five minutes into the visit. He was supposed to look formal but he wasn’t about to sweat all over the place.

“We had to see it for ourselves.” Nesta answers.

Amren nods, “Well, we’re about to begin. So if you wouldn’t mind telling the shadow singer to wrap it up.” Cassian catches something in Amren’s tone. A thing he’s never heard from her before. Nerves. She’s nervous to talk to Azriel? That is not a sentence Cassian ever thought he would think. He would never say it out loud either.

And with that Amren is walking away. Back to the palace. Morrigan and Nesta both cut and run, leaving Cassian to tell his brother. He scoffs at their childishness but he bucks up always. He walks slowly, and tries to come off as non-threatening as he can to the children. Azriel sees him coming and puts the little boy down on his feet.

“It’s good to see you brother.” Azriel says.

Then Azriel brings him into a hug. Cassian has almost always been the one to initiate hugs between them. It’s not like Azriel has never done it, it’s just a rare occurrence that usually only happens when one of them almost dies. Cassian smiles and squeezes his brother tighter. With a few claps on the back the two pull away from each other.

“We’re being requested to come inside.” Cassian says.

Azriel sighs, then he looks at the children, “I have to leave now.” There is a loud chorus of boos and awes from them. They all swarm Azriel to give him a hug. Cassian watches in amazement, it’s a sight he truly can’t believe. And then all the children disperse amongst themselves, some back to their houses and others down the road towards the common areas.

“This suits you brother.” Cassian confesses. Azriel smiles at that.

You dismiss the palace assistants from the office. Really you hired them because it was too much work for yourself, but you also really needed more people with you inside the palace to get rid of the bad memories. When it was you just you, Amren, Azriel and the cooks it was still a bit to quiet for your liking. That’s why you went out of your way to look for any village people who needed a job.

But tonight didn’t really need to go off without a hitch. It was more so an informal homecoming.

The blood benders who left for the night court are back home for a couple of days. To visit family, to take a break from training, and to do whatever they please. And Rhys wanted to visit with the inner circle for diplomatic reasons, so he said. You think he has something else up his sleeve but you don’t want to push it. To show his face to your people and show support.

You weren’t too fond of having Elaine here, but you’d have to put up with it. At least for a few hours. Then she could go on her way and you yours.

A knock on the door tells you all you need to know. You told Amren to gather them and send them your way.

“Come in.” You speak.

The door opens and they come waltzing in. Rhysand and Feyre arm in arm, Then Morrigan, Nesta and Cassian, then Elaine. Last to walk through the door is Azriel. You don’t miss the smile he sends your way as he does. And you can’t help the smile you send him back. He shuts the door and walks over to your side.

It’s in this moment you realize that they don’t know you’re married. Azriel hasn’t told them. And It’s pretty much known in the village so it’s not like it would suddenly be a topic of conversation. You highly doubt if they knew they wouldn’t come barging into this room and asking you about it. Here they are, sweet smiles and waiting for you to talk.

“I’m glad all of you made it here. I hope you’ll enjoy your visit.” You greet them.

“I already am. That ale is really good.” Morrigan answers you.

You smile, “It’s becoming great for out economy. We export to Summer and Day now.”

“Well, I’ll be having some later.” Cassian adds.

“Seeing as this is a homecoming for the blood benders I sent three trunks of our favorite wines.” Rhysand says.

“That’s thoughtful of you.” You thank him for the gift.

“I hope you didn’t touch any of my wine, boy.” Amren speaks up.

“Don’t worry, we haven’t touched your things since you left.” Feyre answers her.

Amren makes a face at that, but nods nonetheless.

“And I’m here to propose a new idea to you, empress.” Rhysand speaks again.

“Go on,” you say.

“Since you are graciously lending us your blood benders for the war, I was wondering if you would like some fae.”

It throws you off. It knocks you off balance completely. You lean back on the desk and cross your arms over your chest. You can tell your eyebrows are furrowing, meeting tightly in the middle, based on the tension there. Fae in sangri? Huh. It’s not like the blood benders were sharpening pitchforks and lighting fires because of Azriel and Amren. But more of them? Why? “Is there any particular reason why I would want fae?” You ask him.

Rhysand clears his throat and loses the smirk on his mouth. This isn’t going to be good. Whatever the hell is about tumble out of his mouth is going to be the opposite of good, you assume. Feyre’s hand brushes up and down his upper arm. She’s comforting him. What is he about to say?

“Well it would seem that, uh, after relocating to the night court that one of your blood benders has coupled up with a fae.” Rhysand answers.

“So you want to send fae here to encourage interspecies relationships? I never thought you were the type.” You tease.

Rhysand lets out a forceful laugh, “Well I am sorry about that. But I mean, it goes to show that you and Azriel would be welcome to the night court should he ever want to return.”

The room goes silent. Amren lets out a loud sigh. You look over at Azriel. So that’s what this was really about. You liked having the blood benders return home. You also liked that your diplomatic relationship with Rhysand was becoming more positive. But this right here lets you know that he’s not just thinking of one thing all the time. The fae is used to tactical and political approaches. He wants Azriel back home. What foes it he nigh court without its spy master?

“I’m staying here indefinitely.” Azriel puts quickly.

“And how are you supposed to work? I’ve given you months but we have to figure this out.” Rhysand replies.

“I have figured it out. Effective immediately I am no longer the spy master of the night court.” Azriel answers. Your eyes widen and you turn to him. He looks at you, as serious as he gets, and doesn’t break eye contact. He did tell you that he would have to formally make this decision. But you didn’t think it would be today, you didn’t think it would be right now. You thought he might go home, visit with his family, maybe talk out some sort of deal. You were okay with whatever he wanted, it’s just that this seems to sudden.

“Brother, we can talk about this.” Rhysand says.

You turn back. So does Azriel. You have half a mind to think Elaine would speak up and say that you were taking him away from his family. You look at her. She’s not even looking at you, or anyone really. She’s playing with a bracelet on her arm, gold and with red and orange charms on it. You look back to Rhysand.

“There’s nothing to talk about. I have given every inch of myself in your service, and I don’t need a thank you or a reward for it. But I do not wish to spend my whole life doing that.” Azriel states calmly. Cassian steps forward after that.

“Wait, so are you saying that you’re never coming home?” He asks.

Azriel steps forward to meet his brother face to face. He places his hands on his shoulders.

“I will still visit the night court. I will still hang out with all of you. But, my place is here.” Azriel says.

“It’s what he wants.”

At the sound of her voice, everyone including you turns to Elaine. You are surprised to say the least. She looks up from her bracelet at the group. You watch as she carefully looks all of them over, her eyes seemingly teary. You wonder why.

“I thought you of all people would say the opposite.” Amren says.

“Amren.” Morrigan chides.

“She’s right. I was against the two of them for so long,” Elain says and then she looks at you, “I really apologize for that. And for what I said to you that day. I see it now. I understand what it’s like to be called to someone that isn’t part of your world.”

You nod your head, “Thank you for the apology.”

Azriel places himself back at your side, a bit closer than last time you notice.

“We respect your decision, Az.” Feyre says.

No doubt having to speak for all of them because Cassian and Rhysand don’t necessarily agree with it, but will say that they do for the sake of their friendship with Azriel. You slide just the slightest bit closer to Azriel, your arms brushing together. He leans in closer to you too.

“If you send fae here, you’d have to come and visit them every once in a while.” You say.

“If I send fae here, you would have no use for them.” Rhysand responds.

“I guess that’s why being empress is useful. I could come up with a reason and everyone would go along with it.” You reply.

Rhysand looks at you then, shock on his face for the smallest of moments. You can tell. It disappears as quickly as it came but you saw it. He smiles at you and then bows his head.

Morrigan claps her hands together, “Well I declare this meeting over, seeing as I have more ale to drink and a very short amount of time.”

Amren opens the doors and leads the way out of the office. Feyre, Nesta and Morrigan leave first. Elaine right after them with a small look over her shoulder at you. Which leaves you, Azriel, Rhysand and Cassian in the office.

“I can give you three a moment.” You say, trying to excuse yourself from the two males.

Azriel reaches for your hand with his. He stops you. You turn to face him fully. He looks like he wants to say something but he can’t quite get the words out You knew he wasn’t one to openly talk about his feelings so easily. You don’t want him to regret not telling his brothers how he feels.

Cassian playfully scoffs, “Can’t keep your hands off of her, can you?”

“My wife—“ Azriel starts.

“Your what?!” Cassian’s booming voice sounds.

“I knew it.” Rhysand smirks.

“You didn’t know shit.” Azriel scolds teasingly.

“Oh, but I did. The blood benders that came to the night court spoke about it on the first night.” Rhysand answers.

You wince, completely forgetting that they could say something. It’s not like you swore them to secrecy.

“So why weren’t we invited to the ceremony? I mean, kind of mean if you ask me. I could have been best man or whatever the humans call it.” Cassian jokes.

You look at Azriel, “Maybe we should just tell them.” “No, no. I like the confusion.” He answers you.

“What’s she talking about?” Rhysand asks.

You nudge Azriel with your elbow, and he groans. You turn to the two other males in the room.

“When he drank my blood, in front of all of you. That was it. That’s when, technically, we got married.” You answer.

Cassian and Rhysand stand there in shock, confusion and a secret third thing you can’t put your finger on. You watch as they look between you and Azriel, their eyes darting back and forth. The room is silent for a few moments.

“As soon as we tell Mor, she’ll want to plan a whole wedding for you.” Rhysand states.

“And Feyre would no doubt love to host. Any picks for best man?”

Azriel laughs, “You two are incorrigible.”

Then the two of them look at you.

Rhysand extends his hand out to you, “Welcome to the family.”

You take his hand and shake it, “Thank you.” When the two of you let go, Cassian cuts in between you and engulfs you in a hug. It catches you by surprise but you return the gesture. He lifts you a bit off the ground which makes you laugh. “Finally, someone else in the family who can kick his ass.” Cassian says.

“Untrue.” Azriel.

#acotar x reader #acotar imagine #acotar fic #azriel imagine #Azriel x reader #azriel fic #blood and shadow

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yourlocaltreesimp · 2 months

Note

Covering BOTW!Link in kisses pretty please (> <)

Yeah, I can do that!

I made this surprisingly angsty (though if you’re not new around here that may be less shocking) so be warned.

𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊

For someone with such an utterly distinct lack of memory, Wild often found himself drowning within them. Fleeting snippets of vision or audio cut in and out, warped and distorted beyond anything he can truly grasp at. One second he’d be laughing alongside his brothers, but when his eyes blinked he’d be a century in the last. Oftentimes after the phantom arms of his previous life embraced him, he felt less than who he was before. his smiles dulled and heart weighed down. As if knowing more about who he was then made him less of who he was now. As if the two sentiences couldn’t coexist.

It was a quiet night, humid with the onset of summer. The fireflies —lightning bugs as Twilight called them— dancing lofty paths amidst the air. Sat side by side, the champion absorbed the fable. At first it seemed rather childish, the idea of two wolves within oneself fighting to make the forefront. But the longer he went on the more it resonated. The mental image as one sneers and snaps, barring its ugly teeth in unwavering violent truth. All while the other dodges and uses the violent’s strength against itself, all while denying its own violent nature.

Allegorically it was good versus bad, overindulgence against suppression. The idea that to overindulge, to snap, to be reckless would lead to being taken advantage of. Wild knew why Twilight thought the story relevant to him. He knew that whenever he’d turn his back on his enemies to support that it wasn’t viewed as loyalty. He knew that there was lots to lose, and they couldn’t afford another injury. He knew Twi didn’t want to see him fall into a similar circumstance. But he knew he couldn’t afford to fail again. He couldn’t fall short. He can’t lose someone close again.

Where externally he was viewed as the former, he internally found himself in the latter of cases. He fought the battle between the whispers of the others in contrast to his own thoughts of himself. Left with the residual pressure to be nothing short of perfect, to be The Hero of Time, to be worthy of the title and the land and the fate and the soul. The yearning to simply live and be without the burden of his own guilt, to be Link, to be your lover and accept the love without feeling indebted.

He didn’t realise Twilight had left.

His head swims and he feels clammy as he curls up, deciding aimlessly that it’s time to sleep. His feet lead him inside his house and he can hardly even stumble up the loft. Someone else can sort dinner.

Any sense of sensibility is muddled and mixed. Time does not matter, nor the relevancy if his mind.

He stares back at the shards of his past life, his chipped reflection in each mirror, and can’t help but wonder who he’d be if he were just Link.

Or would he be even anything at all if not a hero?

What was it that he truly was?

Mipha had written that he was a rather rowdy child, eager to take on the world with nothing more than a stick in hand. Then, he held no care for being proper. Wide grin and leaves in his hair, he was happy. Perhaps that was the most of himself he could ever be. Perhaps that was the reason he finds himself wandering aimlessly now. Perhaps that is his nature.

The records of many soldiers he fought alongside depicted him as the prime standard of the military. Those days were cold, and he just remembered how much he hurt. The ache of every muscle and bruise, every drill, every spar, every battle, every day spent alive that was spent suffering. His ability to cut down any monster or man with any weapon. His instinct and ability to hurt was primed until he now questions if that little boy who splashed around in rivers and threw handfuls of mud had retreated into the cold hands of death. The soldiers’ mirage of him is idyllic, but holds distressingly true to his own memory.

Perhaps that is why his mind is clear and quiet with weapon in hand and a body beneath his feet.

He dreams of musty stables and bare campgrounds, both places the since passed versions of himself would’ve spent a night at. The smell of dirt and dust is accompanied by the crackle of a fire as drunken men sing out of tune.

The littlest curled up as his teeth chattered, the chipped tooth whistling as he exhaled. A warm hand settles on his shoulders as his father drapes another thin blanket over him. He does not yet know this means his father will go without warmth.

The soldier tossing and turning, unable to relax even long enough to sleep. He too his tormented by the potential of falling. He does not yet know what’s to come. He does not yet know there’s nothing to be done.

The scene shifts and he is at the castle. It’s his first time and his eyes shine as he follows his father closely, following hot on his feet with a giddy grin.

It is his home. His work. His life. He follows the princess closely, just far enough to not make himself overbearing. He does not smile. He does not frown. He does not fail.

The colours fade and mix and blur, the dreamscape shifting oncemore. It’s raining. It pitters across his shoulders as he kicks up the puddles, scaring the stray cuccos from the stable not too far away. His father fusses over the sword he’d found, and he can hardly muster the strength to swing it against the base of the apple tree. He results in climbing up the twisted limbs, collecting extra ripe apples to ease his father’s worries. The wet bark gives no grip to his feet and he falls to the ground, winded next to the funny blue sword. It glints and chirps and when he catches his breath he laughs back.

It’s storming. The grass smells wet and irony. The bloody mud cakes his boots as his foot falls brace against the ground. His arms lock as he flings his shield to the side, the guardian falling to disrepair. His shield lay broken. He can see his strained face in the dirty reflection. He doesn’t like the man staring back. The rain pelts across his back and the lightning shakes the ground. His muffled ears pick up Zelda’s distress as another guardian climbs up the mound of soul. He draws his sword. He didn’t even know if it were possible to deflect a guardian laser with a blade. But he can’t fail now. Not after everything. A flash of blue light overtakes his vision as his limbs slacken.

He shoots awake with a familiar tightness in his chest, his scars itching and burning. He writhes beneath his own skin as he kicks the covers off, the cold air seizing him. His lungs struggle to draw breath as he wheezes. His vision tunnels and it feels as if he’s dying again.

Why can’t it just be over.

When will he finally be enough— if not for the sake of the world then to at least save himself?

Or maybe he doesn’t deserve to be saved. He couldn’t save all those innocent people. Castle town, Deya, Lon Lon? Who was he to demand he was worth saving?

He hacks and coughs before even trying to look at his surroundings. Through the mixed screaming within his mind he gathers a few realisations. He’s alive. He’s home. You’re curled up beside him, reaching for his warmth. His hands tremble as they reach towards his uneven hairline, grabbing a fistful and tugging. The pain stings, he feels more than awake as his heart races.

“Mm- Link?” You mumbled against his side, awoken by the cold lack of covers. Guilt fills his throat again until he can’t breathe. He’s supposed to help you, to love you, to be of use. Not be such a burden. But here he is again, making it about him. Making your life worse and demanding comfort like a child.

“Heyheyhey- It’s ok, you’re safe” Your voice was as soft and gentle as your touch as you cradled his cheek. He didn’t even realise he was crying. Why was he crying? Who’d want a hero who cries like a coward in the face of a danger that isn’t even real? You collect his hands together, loosening his grip from his hair and running your thumbs across his knuckles. His head stirs as you speak, and he can’t make out anything of what you are saying. His ears ring, more than usual, drowning out any sound.

“Breathe with me, ok?” He nods weakly after you repeat yourself for the third or fourth time. He tries his best, his ribs shuddering before he could fully breathe in, but no longer deprived of oxygen, his head stops swimming as much.

It’s a while of sitting there, hands in your lap as you calm him down in whatever way he quietly requests. It’s so odd. Being raised to serve and to give and being taught through experience that your worth lies in your deeds… to suddenly being the one catered to. It still feels as if asking to be loved is forbidden. That his purpose comes before all requirement and survival. Somedays it still feels like death would come before he would be comfortable. But it took many long nights and longer days spent having uncomfortable conversations before he realised he still had a chance, only if he chose to make one for himself.

At some point he lets himself settle. He sinks into the now cool mattress as you stare into his eyes. He feels a flicker of shame before your hands are back on his jaw and you're pressing light kisses to his skin. Both temples, forehead, each freckle on the apple of his cheeks, crooked nose, the tip of his burn scar, the cut in his chin. You pull back for a moment to admire what you’ve made of him through the years. He smiles, lopsided and as giddy as he was in childhood. You press an eager kiss to his lips, giggling throughout.

He may be lost within the maze of his own mind, a man held hostage to himself, but despite being a failure by his own previous standards, it doesn’t matter so long as he’s enough for you.

#firreplies #linked universe #legend of zelda #linkeduniverse #link x reader #linked universe x reader #link x you #x reader #lu wildxreader #lu wild #yes i got inspo for his panic attack by my own #no i’m not ok #yes they do hurt #no i’m not in therapy #do any of you read these?#if you do you get a gold star #⭐️

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drewsbuzzcut · 3 months

Note

Ooooh maybe a blurb on one of the kids when are a baby like a 6-8 months old and may has been gone from a long roadie and he has also been practicing and putting in a lot of extra work; staying late at morning skate or longer workouts and maybe he comes home from a roadie and one of the babies (you can choose between the three hehe😉) doesn’t recognize him or maybe only wants to be held/taken care of by model!reader and mat is upset and devastated bc he feels like a shit father but it’s just the baby being a baby and tired bc by the next morning the baby only wants Mat and NO ONE ELSE

🥹😭

I’m going with Nolan just bc he’s the first baby, so Mat is still very new when it comes to fatherhood!

Mat lugs himself through the front door, body being weighed down by the longer morning skates and the intense workout sessions that follow. That’s not to mention Mat feeling extremely guilty for spending more time on hockey than with his family. Between a two week long roadie and the endless hours at the rink, Mat hasn’t been around for you or for Nolan. He can’t even fathom a thought about what he’s sure he’s missed with being absent. All he wants is to cuddle into his girlfriend and hold his sweet baby boy.

Entering his home, he’s met with the smell of a clean house and Nolan’s body wash. The guilt really starts to eat at him in that moment. He should be here, helping you clean and bathe your son. Shaking it off, he silently works his way through the house, finishing your cleaning routine and putting his things away. Finally he makes his way to your ensuite, pushing the door open to find you crouched down while you work the baby soap through Nolan’s tufts of hair.

“Look who’s here, Nolie! It’s daddy!” You quietly cheer, smiling at your man.

“Hi, baby. I missed you so much,” he whispers, sitting on the floor next to you.

“I missed you,” you say back into his lips.

“Hi, sweet boy. Daddy missed you, Nols,” he coos, reaching out to touch his son, but the baby pulls away.

Mat frowns, but not long enough for you to notice.

“How was the roadie? You guys played really well, especially you. You looked so sexy out there,” you make conversation, dying to hear about his week.

“Thank you, pretty girl. Yeah, the roadie was really good. We played some good hockey, thank god,” he mutters, leaning back against the porcelain tub.

“I love that for you. Can you do me a favor and get Nolan dried and dressed in his jammies? They’re on the bed,” you ask even though you don’t have to.

“Of course,” he agrees, pulling his baby boy out of the tub and making sure he’s wrapped snugly in his towel.

Nolan quickly realizes that you’re not the one holding him and starts squirming in Mat’s arms.

“It’s okay, baby. Daddy has you,” he tries to soothe the crying baby, but it’s to no avail.

Nolan cries the entire time he’s with Mat, not even Mat’s voice can calm him down like it usually does.

When you step back into your room, skin care done and dressed in Mat’s t-shirt, Nolan clocks you. He’s immediately reaching out for you and you don’t let him suffer any longer.

“What’s wrong, my little love? It’s okay, mommy’s here,” you get your baby to finally calm down.

Your boyfriend watches you rock Nolan to sleep, heart sinking into his stomach. He hates himself even more.

You quickly take Nolan to his nursery where you rock him for a while before heading back to your bed.

You notice Mat’s unusual silence, piquing your concern. You turn towards him and just watch as he stares daggers into the ceiling.

“What’s wrong?” You ask, head resting on his shoulder and hand rubbing his stomach.

“Nolan doesn’t recognize or doesn’t love me, I hope it’s the former. I’m such a shit father. I haven’t been around much and now he doesn’t even know who I am,” he blurts, voice thick with sadness.

You frown at his teary eyes.

“That’s not true. He loves you so much and he does know who you are. You know that. He’s always so happy to see you on facetime and he loves hearing your voice. He’s just a baby. They’re odd like that. Please don’t let it get to you,” you try to talk him down.

“That doesn’t mean that I’m not a shit father, though. I haven’t been here as much as I should. I’m steadily choosing hockey over being here with you guys and being a parent and partner,” he says in a strangled cry.

You move to lay on top of him, so your eyes can look down into his. You cup his cheeks and kiss his lips so softly.

“You’re not a shit father. Hockey is your job and I understand you wanting to get better at it. There’s no fault in it. Yeah, I wish you were around more, but I do understand you being gone. I knew what I was getting myself into. Please don’t call yourself a shit father,” you state, truth obvious in your voice.

“I love you and I’ll be here more,” he promises.

“I love you.”

That night you go to sleep with your big baby in your arms. Mat’s heart finally doesn’t feel so heavy.

He quickly comes to see that you’re right, come next morning when you place a happy Nolan on his chest.

“I love you, Nolie bear,” he whispers, kissing his baby’s head.

Your baby cuddles into your boyfriend’s chest and you feel your heart melt at the sight. You share a knowing glance with Mat and you sigh in contentment. Nothing can compare to mornings with your boys. Nothing can compare to the love being shared in your bedroom.

#visceral in doses #visceral in doses blurbs

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gingiesworld · 11 months

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Hi!! I have a request for a fic in the future if you want to do it. Yn is an actor, same age that Mk and Ashley. He started acting at a very young age and the Olsen twins were like the only competition he had. When the directors casted the twins and yn, he didn't know It was gonna be like hell. They were mean to him and they tried everything to be more famous than him. Years later Yn was casted as( i don't know, Vision or another one) and he met his new costar, everything in his past came back, and he was mean to her for her sisters.

Sorry, too long I think but I have this idea I think you would do a great job if you want to do it.

Wow. This is my first ever request on Tumblr. Thank you so much nonnie for thinking of me. I hope I did a good job buddy

Why Do You Hate Me

Elizabeth Olsen x Male Reader

Warnings: Angst. Fluff.

18+ MINORS DNI

Y/N Y/L/N was known for his earlier roles when he was a child, especially the roles he played in the movies he starred alongside the Olsen twins. Y/N was a timid boy and just wanted to be successful, but the twins made everything a competition. Deliberately making him screw up his lines. Tripping him up whenever they had the chance, or just being plain old mean to him by saying he sucks. He won't survive in the industry.

Although, that only encouraged him to do better in his career. Landing some major roles, especially joining the MCU as Vision. Although, the moment he met one of his co-stars, everything that he thought he had forgotten had come back to him.

"Hi, I'm Elizabeth Olsen, but you can call me Lizzie." She held her hand out for him to shake.

"Hi, Elizabeth, I'm Y/N Y/L/N." He spoke coldly, shaking her hand as he looked into her eyes. Seeing how much she looked like her sisters. His blood boiling at the memories.

As the time went on, his coldness towards Lizzie started to infuriate the woman. Especially when they started to film Civil War, having more scenes together. It wasn't until during the airport scene, one of the wires that held Y/N up as he flew, snapped. Halting the shoot as he collided with the floor. Groaning in pain.

"Are you ok?" Lizzie asked him as he just glared at her, moving away from her touch.

"Don't touch me." He snarled at her.

"I'm just concerned Y/N." She told him.

"Well don't be." He snarled as he sat up as Joe came running to him.

"Are you ok Y/N." Lizzie noticed how he didn't fight when Joe rested his hand on Y/N's good shoulder, deciding to get up and leave.

"I think it's dislocated." He told him as Joe signalled for the medics.

"We'll get you sorted out buddy." He told him with a smile as he helped Y/N to his feet. "We're done for the day guys. Thank you."

Lizzie was starting to get sick of how Y/N was treating her. How he would exclude her from every one of his conversation. Scolding her everytime she forgot a line, so she had done a stupid thing, she decided to get drunk. Only then she had the courage to confront Y/N. She marched to his hotel room, banging on his door.

"Elizabeth." He spoke quizzically, his arm in a sling.

"I need to talk to you." She slurred as she poked his chest, pushing passed him inside.

"Listen, I am tired and I don't care for this conversation." He told her as he gestured to the door.

"Why do you hate me?" She asked him shakily. He watched as tears formed in her eyes.

"I don't." He told her, guiding her to his bed. "You need to sleep and we can talk about this another day." He lay her down, helping take off her shoes before he grabbed her a bottle of water. "Drink this and sleep." He told her, getting up to get the trash can before he went to the sofa. Laying down himself.

"I don't understand." Lizzie mumbled sleepily.

"Maybe when your sober we can have that conversation." He told her softly, closing his eyes as he felt a heavy guilt weighing on his shoulders. He had made her feel how her sisters made him feel when they were younger. That wasn't who he was, who he should be. He was always kind and gentle, caring and selfless, but he has been the complete opposite to someone who could be his best friend. He turned his head in her direction, hearing her snores as she slept. "I'm sorry." He whispered before he tried to sleep himself.

As the next morning came around, Lizzie stirred awake. Remembering the events of last night, groaning as she sat up. Shocked to see Y/N enter the room with a paper bag and some water.

"Here, take these and then eat." He told her before he retreated back to the sofa. As the two ate in silence, he decided to break it. "I don't hate you."

"What?" Lizzie questioned, she could see how he had been kicking himself.

"I'm not sure if you remember me from working on those project with your sisters when we were kids." He told her as she looked closer at him. "They made my life hell whenever we were on set. They would make me screw up my lines and tell me I was worthless. I wouldn't make it in the industry. All sorts of things like that. I honestly thought about quitting when they said that I was too fat for the job, but then I used their slurs and used them. I forced myself into the gym everyday, I cut out fast food and somedays I actually forgot to eat because of it." He sighed as he sat back, his gaze never faltering from Lizzie's. "I'm sorry that I took it out on you, but when you told me your name, it brought everything back."

"Y/N." Lizzie tried as he just shook his head no.

"I'm sorry Lizzie." He whispered. "I made you feel how they made me feel and I was wrong to do that."

"Hey." She got up and sat beside him. "We can start a fresh if you want. Be friends?" She asked him as he just smiled at her, nodding.

"I would like that." He whispered as she smiled widely.

"Good." She smirked. "Well, since you are now the reason none of us have work until you're healed, let's have some fun."

As the weeks turned into months, both of them became closer. Best friends even. But that wasn't entirely something that Y/N ever saw happening, especially since they lived so close to each other. They would spend time in each others houses, watching movies or cooking together.

Over time, Y/N had realised that he has developed feelings for her. Unsure of how to pursue things, unsure if she even feels the same way. So, it wasn't until the cast decided to have a small get together, and Robert's idea to do 7 minutes in heaven.

"You don't have to kiss in the closet, you could just tell each other your deepest secrets since some of us are in happy relationships." He stated, placing the bottle on the table, spinning it and it landed on Scarlett. As the game went on, it was Lizzie's turn, as she spun it, it landed in between Y/N and Evans.

"I've already been." Chris smirked as he nudged Y/N's shoulder. Y/N nodded shyly as he stood up, following behind Lizzie and Robert.

"Remember, seven minutes guys." He told them before he closed the door on them. The closet was only illuminated by a dull light as the two were practically stood toe to toe.

"So." Y/N started shyly.

"We can kiss or you can tell me your deepest secret." She smirked as he choked on air. "One that no on knows."

"I feel like either way, you will find out a secret." He snickered shyly.

"So which is it?" She asked as she stepped closer. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath before cupping her cheek. Gazing into her eyes.

"This is going to change a lot Elizabeth." He whispered as he leaned closer. Lizzie's breath was quickening at feel of his breath on her face. The smell of alcohol and cigarettes on his breath.

"I don't care." She whispered before he closed the gap. Kissing her with urgency, she gripped onto his collar before her hands went to his neck. His to her hips as he pushed her against the opposite wall. Her leg wrapping around his waist as their tongues danced together. His hand moving up her thigh to her ass, squeezing it and causing her to grind against his crotch. The two moaning and panting as he moved his kisses to her neck, sucking and biting softly as she continued to grind.

"Time's up!" They heard Robert bang on the door. The two pulled apart with dialated pupils before fixing themselves. Making sure they don't look like they were about to have sex in their friend's closet.

Lizzie grabbed Y/N's hand as she left the closet. Pushing him to sit down before getting on his lap. Smirking as the two continued the evening with their friends. Anticipating what the future has in store for the two.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff #marvel #wanda x reader #wanda x y/n #wanda x you #elizabeth olsen #wanda maximoff x you #elizabeth olsen x reader #elizabeth olsen x you #elizabetholsen #lizzie olsen x you

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mediocreanomaly · 5 months

Text

Amen. Priest!Wolfwood x Reader (NSFW)

**GN!Reader** Authors Note: I have an issue. Yes Priest!Wolfwood sparks joy, so please enjoy 4,539 of depravity as my welcome back, small note at the end!

**Content Warning: I grew up religious so I'm using real scripture here, if you're religious or that makes you uncomfy this might be a skip for you, if you're depraved like me read on**

Being raised Catholic was a one-way street to spoon fulls of guilt being shoved down your throat. Most everyone in the church was more or less aware of that fact, whether they acknowledged it or not.

However, there’s a warning they don't bother to put on the good book. A warning about the more...complicated relationship you develop with religion once the guilt that's swelled up in your chest has nowhere else to go.

"Then God said, 'Take your son to the land of Moriah and kill your son there as a sacrifice for me. This must be Isaac, your only son, the one you love. Use him as a burnt offering on one of the mountains there. I will tell you which mountain.” Church sometimes God ask things from us, things that seem...unimaginable, unbearable, but we are not lead blindly. No, quite the opposite, God-' " Father Wolfwood emphases by pointing to the rafters of the church as if the big man himself was sitting there, watching. "He has a plan, a plan so great and magnificent that we cannot begin to comprehend. With that understanding Abraham takes his son, because he trust, church, he trust God enough to follow-"

The sermon is drowned out. To anyone around you you'd look devout. Pious even with how well you focus on Father Wolfwood, but it's not the bible that makes you show up every Sunday. It's the dark black tousled hair that trails into stubble lining his cheek. It's those big brown eyes wide and confident as he preaches to the congregation. It's those hands, large and calloused, that make you wonder what life he must have lived before this as he moves them around with his speech. It's his skin, perfectly tan and forehead beading with sweat from the insufferable heat of the church, no doubt that cassock isn't helping. It's his voice, deep and raspy with that perfect cadence that makes you wonder what it'd be like if he said your name while bending you over-

"Y/n?" The altar boy who you didn't even realize had come to your pew ask. He's holding out communion in a way that tells you he's been there for a second.

"Oh! uh-" you reach out for the wine when a hand around your wrist stops you, you blink a few times and look up to see the man you were just ogling at meeting your gaze with dark eyes.

"Why don't you pass that out to the other pews, y/n is joining me for a special communion after church, they had something they wanted to pray on with me" Father Wolfwood says easily.

"I do?" the words fall from your mouth dumbly which causes Wolfwood to raise an eyebrow at you as if you're stupid. You let yourself swallow and bow your head as if scolded, you wonder what part of being a priest blessed him with so much sass.

"ah- right! yes I had forgotten, thank you Father Wolfwood" you correct. You had not, in fact, discussed anything of the sorts with the Father, but there was clearly something you were missing here.

He gives you a curt nod before softening his eyes and turning back to the young boy.

"Go on" he insist. He does, continuing to the next pew with all the confirmation he needed and Wolfwood finally let’s go of your wrist. The warmth of his hand that lingers isn't lost on you as you wearily glance up at him.

"Special communion?" You try hoping to gather a bit more information on the situation you'll be faced with after Mass.

"mhmm, God has called me to you. Something weighs on your mind, perhaps a repentance is in order?" his face gives away nothing, although you swear his eyes darken as he watches you with a pleasant smile that stays locked on his face.

Alarm bells ring in your head. Did...did he know? You had done your best to hide your less than innocent gaze as worship. Thinking back on it perhaps you were less conspicuous about it than you thought, that or God was the worst wing man ever.

"Father Wolfwood I-"

He holds up his hand to pause the word vomit that was about to stutter out and shakes his head.

"Later. Best to confess without prying eyes, no?"

He lets you simmer on that as he makes his way back to the front of the church. When he leads the church in prayer you do take it upon yourself to pray for once. You pray you'll sink into the floor or be struck dead before the end of the sermon.

By the time the church doors are opened, and people file out you're sure your heart will burst anyways. You stay seated in the front pew, not moving an inch because if you stand it'll be to bolt out the door and... well technically nothing was keeping you from it. It's not like the god damn (sorry God) preacher would shoot you if you attempted to run. He had simply suggested you confess. Easy. He probably hears peoples fucked up sexual fantasies all the time sitting in that booth. You knew the sheriff’s wife was sleeping with the banker and you knew the sheriff was sleeping with the widow down the street so it's not like the stuff that’s pulled from the great Catholics of No Mans Land weren't anything he hadn't heard before.

That's the thought you try and let comfort you as Father Wolfwood finishes up thanking people for coming to church and shaking hands.

The church doors shut with a thud that makes you jump in your seat; you press your hands together firmly and feel your fingernails dig into the skin there. This was fine.

"You know" Father Wolfwood folds his hands politely behind his back and takes agonizingly slow steps down the aisle "People with guilty conscious are more likely to be startled by loud noises."

You keep your head bowed slightly in what must look like a mock prayer, but you aren’t praying any more, you're just doing everything possible to not throw up on the churches nice red carpet, carpet that is interrupted when two black dress shows come into view.

"y/n?"

That voice. It makes you press you lips in a firm line scared of what filth might come out of it if you speak. Instead, to show you're listening, you slowly raise your head to meet Wolfwoods eyes, the likes of which seem clouded in some strong emotion. Were priest always this intense? Well, the easy answer was yes but this was a different type of intensity, not kind that filled revering words but one that more closely resembled a predator zoning in on its prey.

"Y/n" he says it again, albeit softer this time as if coaxing forward a scared animal. "You have something on your mind, don't you? Something that plagues you?"

You feel your fingers instinctively move to fiddle with the hem of your shirt. If the heat from the church before was unbearable before then this is downright swelting.

"Don't you usually do this kind of thing in the booth?" a poor attempt of a smile graces your lips in a desperate attempt to lighten whatever mood was staring to suffocate the air.

"Usually yes. This is a special case I believe though..." he leans down and your heart slams against your chest, his breath fans against your cheek. You can smell lingering cologne and... was that smoke? Surely not, if your local priest smoked it'd be the talk of the town, although now that you think about it those plush lips would look perfect balancing a cigarette between them, and they'd look even better if he used those teeth to-

"I almost forgot! You haven't received communion" He straightens out in an instant and claps his hands together nearly scaring you out of your skin while your face heats up from pure embarrassment.

You watch as he crosses from the pew to the table behind the pulpit and grabs a small cup of wine and bread. Just as quickly he's back in front of you with the objects. You reach out to accept them when he pulls his hands back.

"ah ah ah, I said this was a special communion didn't I? I'll deliver it unto you, you just sit and do as your told."

Oh. Yeah, that definitely didn't do anything to you. Nothing like a gruff handsome man in priest wear telling you to obey in the house of God. This was for sure not bubbling up any worrying realizations about yourself. Nope. Not in the slightest.

He steps back putting a little bit of room between the two of you before his eyes flicker from you to the carpet in front of him.

"Kneel."

You go instantly and willingly, a bit too willingly. Your mind flashes with Father Wolfwoods sermons about the disciples who kissed Jesus’ feet. You wonder if this was an elaborate way to get you to read the bible more because you're beginning to understand what was going through their minds now as you sit on your knees in front of the priest.

You aren’t sure if Wolfwood expected you to be so eager. He pauses for a moment before you swear a hint of a smirk plays at his lips. He raises the glass and the bit of bread slightly.

"Listen to me closely, we wouldn't want to spill and stain the carpet now, would we?" he ask.

You shake your head no. He makes a satisfied hum and continues.

"Tilt your head back.”

You do as your told, tilting your head back until your eye level is forced to be centered on the man in front of you.

"Open your mouth.”

Your mouth begins to salivate despite the fact there’s nothing in it yet. Perhaps it's due to the fact that what he's about to put in it isn't want you’d like to have resting on your tongue.

"Good. Why don't you stick your tongue out a little bit? I don't want you to dribble."

Fuck him. Fuck him so bad. There was no way he didn't know what he was doing but if had any hint about this sadistic game he was playing with you he gave no indication, he remained at stoic as ever as if you weren't having the most unholy thoughts imagine about your fucking priest.

There’s no going back though. You follow his instructions and let your tongue loll out of your mouth. You swear something flickers in his eyes, but it's gone as soon as it arrives.

He raises the glass and bread more as if offering it to God.

"Close your eyes.”

You do. You let the light of stained-glass windows be blotted out by your own blind obedience.

“Corpus Domini Nostri Iesu Christi custodiat animam tuam in vitam aeternam....Amen."

You feel him press the small bit of bread onto your tongue, you close and eat. You don't need to be told before your opening your mouth again.

The wine follows right after, poured into your mouth and you swallow it down focusing on not letting any hit the ground with the speed at which the contents are emptied down your throat.

What realistically could not have been more than a few seconds feels as though it's lasted a lifetime. You take a deep breath once the bitter wine has settled in your stomach and before you can even think about getting up and excusing yourself from the church Wolfwood puts a hand on your shoulder, signaling for you to stay in place.

"Good. Why don't we get that confession out of the way then?"

Right. The reason he had probably pulled you aside for all of this in the first place. Had he seen through you? Seen how hungry your gaze had become? Probably. Looking back on it sitting in the front row was probably not the best idea when the entire reason for your Sunday visits was for potential fantasy fuel. There didn't seem like any reason to lie though, it's not like a priest could tell anyone about these things and outside of church Father Wolfwood was a bit of an anomaly to the town.

He didn't have any friends that you knew of, didn't gossip, or hang out at the bar, the man lived in this church which was making you feel a bit more guilty about your infatuation now that you thought of it but hey, if you weren't guilty about something then were you even a catholic?

"Forgive me Father I have sinned..."

With a grimace you realize why the damn confessions booths were so popular. Admitting this to God or a wooden wall was a little too easy. Admitting this to Wolfwood was like someone slowly peeling off your skin.

"I see, well, tell me child what is your confession?"

a swallow, then a leap.

"I have been...ah having inappropriate thoughts about someone. Someone who I go out of my way to see to add to these...fantasy's I have."

He listens closely and his hand comes up to cup the back of your head.

"I see...lust then?"

You nod in response, and he makes an affirming noise.

"And what do you imagine happening in these...fantasies of yours?"

The silence in the empty church is so loud it's deafening. Your hands scrunch and unscrunch the fabric of your pants.

"I...I imagine him pushing be down against these very pews Father. That one day as I'm standing up to leave mass, he'll shove me right back down and take me against the wood."

It's said strained but even you must admit maybe there’s something to this confession shit because you feel a bit lighter with it off your shoulders. Father Wolfwood looks less light. In fact, he looks you've just damned him to hell.

"Is that all?" he asks but it comes out breathier than he means it to.

The tone sends something to your core, oh you see it now. Lamb and shepherd your ass, you were still most certainly the lamb but the Father was no shepherd, he was the Wolf. Maybe God himself had put that divine foreshadowing into his name.

You shift on your knees and press yourself flatter trying to rub your thighs together. Wolfwoods eyes flicker down to the action then back up to your face, he opens his mouth to say something, but you beat him to it.

"No Father. Sometimes I imagine him taking me on the stand in front of the whole congregation. Still preaching while he finishes in me, holy words even in his most sinful act. But...do you know what I really want Father?"

Wolfwood swallows, his fingers trace along your face, and you fight every instinct to lean into it. He looks like this is paining him, He's all gritted teeth and square shoulders as he speaks.

"What do you want?"

Hook. Line. Sinker.

"I imagine he'd keep me here after church, that he'd have me kneel before him still while wearing his holy clothes, that collar, the rosary...and I wish he'd undo his belt to-"

"Enough."

Your mouth snaps shut scared you've pushed to far. You can feel heat bloom across your face in embarrassment now that your words are catching up to you, this was meant to be a confession not a shit porno, maybe you DID need God...

"You drive me insane you know that? Every day you come in here- the house of god mind you and stare at me like..." He clicks his tongue and motions to you.

"Well like that."

You aren't sure what to make of his tone, it's scolding and firm but hinges on needy at the end. You're starting to worry you broke the poor man before he makes an irritated noise.

"Fine. You want to repent so bad?" Wolfwoods hands go to his belt and with a soft clink of the metal it comes fastened. Your eyes flicker to look towards the door to make sure that no one was about to walk in on the scene that'd put Judas’ sin to shame when you're snapped out of your thoughts.

"Pay attention sweetheart, you were doing so good before, what happened?" The mask of a holy man cracks and gives way to something cockier, more taunting, more...Wolfwood.

"Unless you need scripture to keep your focus?" he works to undo the button and the zip of his dress pants as he tilts his head.

"Then here's something for you, 'the serpent said to the woman. “For God knows that when you eat from it your eyes will be opened, and you will be like God, knowing good and evil.” When Eve saw that the fruit of the tree was good for food and pleasing to the eye, and also desirable for gaining wisdom..' "

He frees himself from the confines of his pants. You feel your mouth water and although your knees are starting to hurt from kneeling for so long you have a feeling you're about to get your real communion.

" '...and she opened her mouth, and took.' "

In beat with his preaching you let your mouth fall open. In all honesty, you get it now. You get how appealing that lush fruit must have been to Eve, you get why even after being promised paradise, she gave in to temptation. The weight that settles on your tongue as Wolfwood presses into your mouth makes your eyes roll back and an involuntary moan escape your throat. Wolfwoods breath stutters.

"God..." He groans and if your mouth wasn't currently full you might have made a witty comment about using the lords name in vain but a quick hand lacing through your hair from Wolfwood serves well enough to sever whatever thought had flitted through your mind.

You flatten your tongue and take more, allowing as much as you can to the back of your throat but when tears prick your eyes and you gag slightly on the sensation he pulls you off with a wet pop. You whine slightly at loss before Wolfwoods hand grabs your chin while he uses his thumb to wipe up the drool leaking from your lips that you hadn't realized was there.

"Patience, don’t you listen to a word I say up there?” he muses, you sheepishly look up at him through your eyelashes and it’s answer enough. He pulls you back in front of his cock, "Be good then, swallow every drop and I might forgive you"

You don't have much time to argue has his hand guides you back. You're more prepared this time, the way you sit on your knees...you’re a picture perfect saint and who's here to judge you for your sin anyways? Wolfwood? Sounded like a set up to a joke.

"Fuck, yeah baby just like that. So good-" His words break off with a grunt and his hips stutter forward, he pulls your head forward and your reach up to steady yourself with his thighs. He rocks his hips to your mouth as he face fucks you in the middle of the church. When his breathing speeds up and he mutters out a sting of gentle curses you know he’s close. You close your eyes and let him use you as he spills down your throat. You're desperate to show him you can listen, you swallow down as much as you can trying to not let a single drop of cum hit the floor.

When the rough handful of hair is released, you pull back to try and catch your breath, a worthless endeavor it would seem considering you're just as quickly being lifted up by your arm. You feel yourself being tugged up the steps towards the pulpit and make peace with the fact you're officially the worst Catholic ever...well besides the priest who's currently the instigator of this depravity.

"Not done yet sweetheart, the grace of god doesn't come with a blow job surprisingly" Wolfwood huffs amused as he presses down on your shoulder to force you to bend of the wood stand.

"Are you even a priest?" wrong question you guess because Wolfwood makes an irritated noise.

"Aren't you supposed to be repenting?" His hands grope at your thighs spreading them apart much more slowly than you'd like, as if he's savoring it...reverence you think.

"Father-"

He chuckles lowly at that.

"Father" he imitates "you let that name fall from your lips like it doesn't turn you on just to say it"

His fingers ghost over your thighs, then around the area you want him most before sliding up under your shirt to explore flesh. It's so hot in the church and when you peer out across the wooden pews you see the stain glass window casting rainbow light that sprawls out across the floor all the way up to your body.

"Focus on me" Wolfwood corrects your wandering mind by nipping along your neck and your body instinctively shudders against him. You press your hips back to feel his growing hardness pressed against your ass. His hands slide your shirt up over your head and he begins to focus on trailing kisses along your back.

"Thank you, lord," His lips move against your shoulder blade.

"For delivering this sinner unto me, so that I may show them rapture."

His fingers hook along the hem of your pants and tug them down your legs until they rest right at your knees.

"Despite that, I must confess, I have sinned."

His fingers trace along your entrance before slowly sinking in. You groan and press your head to the wood in front of you, fingers scratching against the surface.

"I have lusted for someone of my own congregation. I have imagined them kneeling for me and I worst of all I have imagined me taking them, devouring them until there is nothing left to fill them but me"

Another finger lazily joins the first and he begins a slow rhythm of pumping them in and out. You attempt to wiggle your hips back to chase the feeling, but his other hand keeps your waist flush against the stand.

"But I am only a man so with my mortal body I will show them euphoria"

You feel his fingers pull out and whine at the loss only to feel the blunt head of his own cock begin to line up with you.

"Amen"

Wolfwood doesn't give you much more warning before roughly pressing in. You moan as he sets a backbreaking pace, thankful that he at least prepped you before. He's leaned over your body; his hair tickles the back of your neck slightly as he pants in your ear. You imagine your own noises can't be much better as his left hand, the one he's apparently wrapped in a rosary, comes up to catch your chin, two fingers press into your mouth as he supports your head. His other hand stays at your hip, bringing your body back against his with every thrust.

It's so hot in the church, sweat beads along your body and you can feel your hair beginning to stick to your forehead. Your mind feels foggy and you lap absent mindedly at the fingers invading your mouth. Wolfwood groans and pushes you down further against the stand and it'd be uncomfortable if you could focus on anything other than the priest fucking your brains out. He produces an ungodly amount of precum, you can feel it making a mess between your thighs right as drool begins to leak from the corners of your mouth and bead down to the wood below.

Wolfwoods hand shifts from your hip to where a blooming warmth has begun. You nearly cry out with relief babbling nonsense around his fingers, hell maybe even a few prayers. His own mouth is becoming less of that of a reverend and more of that of a ravenous man, mouthing and biting at what he can reach. The fingers press deeper into your mouth and your feel the smooth beads of the rosary are you toy with them with your tongue. You're close, you tremble beneath Wolfwood and he catches on because both his hands pull away to once again fit along your hips. You nearly sob from the new lack of stimulation as he rocks into you.

"Beg for it" Wolfwood says so firm you'd have sworn he was once again leading congregation. Your mind is half way to mush right now so it doesn't take much convincing to do what he wants.

"Please please please let me, I’m sorry, I’ll be good, I repent" you babble out hoping you’ve said the magic words.

His hand comes down firmly on your ass as he thrust into you then finally finally reaches to touch between your thighs.

It sends you over the edge instantly, your legs trembling as you whine and moan, Wolfwoods own obscene noises match your own as he finishes inside you, letting you milk him for all he's worth.

The two of you stay like that for a moment, you become aware of the fact your priest is pressed up against your back, trying to catch his breath from fucking the ever loving daylights out of you. You whine slightly and Wolfwood responds by nuzzling his face against your neck.

"Are you okay?"

You do actually laugh at that one, letting your forehead rest against the podium.

"The priest I've been fantasizing about fucking me for a year now just has. This has been the best lay of my life and you want to ask if I'm okay?"

"You're awfully vulgar aren't you?"

You snap your head up to make several points about irony of the statement but when you turn you see a shit eating grin on his face. Your playfully hit his chest and groan.

"You've got to be the worst priest ever"

"Can't say I'd deny that claim" He leans forward and kisses you, you go into it easily but the taste of his lips remind you of something, when you pull away you raise an eyebrow

"Do you smoke?"

He shrugs and keeps his hands on your waist.

"I prefer to keep certain things in my life separated from the church"

"and me?"

"Consider yourself a special case." He smirks and takes hold of your chin between his fingers "Although I do hope this was enough to keep you coming to my sermons?" he ask

You swallow at the dark look in his eye and place your hands on his chest.

"and miss the holy word? Perish the thought"

He chuckles lowly at that as your hands begin to play with the collar of the cassock he wears.

"Although Father, I fear I may not have properly confessed."

He raises an eyebrow and eyes you "No?"

You shake your head "See I only...repented for two out of three fantasy’s I had also mentioned being taken against the pews"

Wolfwoods hands tighten around his hips and his smile widens.

"Well...let's fix that, shall we?"

Author's note: ahhhh I'm back! I've been storin this little beauty away for awhile now. This is my welcome back post because I feel like I lost the way I wanted to organize and write for a little while and this was the first piece that got me back in the flow of things. I missed you guys! We're back baby! (I'll add my spacers in later I'm missin the files rn and I don't feel like searching for them)

#trigun x reader #trigun x you #wolfwood x reader #nicholas d. wolfwood #wolfwood x you #priest!wolfwood

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hallowsden · 7 months

Text

Devotion

Zevlor x G/N!Tav snippet

Author Notes: All I'm gonna say is this was originally supposed to be only about 500 words only for me to finally get to the part of Act 2 where I managed to save Zevlor and OH BOY- it evolved into 1.2k words. Just- I adore Zevlor. This came out having more angst than I initially thought, though, so... Anyways, hope you all enjoy it! [Not beta read]

He pretends not to see the relief in your eyes when you first go up to him after fighting the Mind Flayers and Intellect Devourers. After all, why would you give him such a look with what he's done? No, that's just all in his imagination. He knows you're aware of his sins. Then again, you always did have a habit of knowing things before anyone else does...

Even without the tadpole that now inhabits his head like you and the other saviors, Zevlor could see through your brave mask. In those mismatched eyes he had grown fond of long before your lot had done the impossible all those months ago, he sees a mirror image of himself.

The festering fear that haunts you and everyone else like the shadows that barely stood by in this damnable land. The neverending guilt that attempts to drown you to the depths of your mind as the blood refuses to wash away from your hands, your head chanting apologies as you think about the what ifs of you have done better.

Zevlor knows that look you wore well. He's seen it in himself every time he caught a glimpse of his reflection, as of an occurrence that was... Not to mention, it reminded him of the others... The younger Hellriders especially tend to wear it more publicly, not yet developing the skills to effectively hide their inner demons yet... So many gone, just like that-...

The exhaustion you practically wore like a second skin, with bags that cling to you with a vengeance, one that came along with you before he had even met you. The exhaustion that weighed your trembling shoulders and buckling knees had it not been the adrenaline that roared through your ears-. Hell, he swears he could see some new scars marking your delicate face, even.

Has it been that long ago since he last saw you? You haven't appeared to have changed much, and yet...

And yet, as he goes on to blink, he senses it immediately as he explains himself to you. What once was the hollow void in your chest when he first met you, the one that mirrored his own so brokenly is now replaced with a bright, burning radiance of celestial strength and blessing, one that pulses to the beat of your heart.

A not so mirror image. But it was still you, nonetheless...

No longer were you a fellow oathbreaker who was ever so lost in the world and of yourself. You had what he once had, an Oath of Devotions that glowed in you but more, filling up your broken cracks like the way the false God had shown him if he just gave them his broken faith and devotion and followed what they said...

It was nothing but a lie, as his people got hunted down and slaughtered. The people he swore to protect... He betrayed them all and failed them once more.

But you're here, giving him a look of understanding... And admittedly, it confused him...

Why do you care for him, he's so tempted to ask. The moment you met him, you practically acted as if you were drawn to him like a Moth to a flame... He doesn't understand it. Why care for an old, decrepit man like him? And why did your eyes shine with familiarity when you two first met?

You saved him. And no doubt you saved the others. He just knows you did. From all that he knows about you, from word of mouth and the times you decided to hang around in his little area back in the Druid's Grove, you'd never let anyone suffer under your watch.

You were always so compassionate. He at first thought it was due to being a fellow Tiefling. Goodness, how the world already hated their kinds existence. It wasn't uncommon for Tieflings to stand up for one another. After all, who would if not themselves in the world they lived in? But no... He's seen how you work. Your heart was far bigger than the body that holds it. It was something he appreciated about you.

You were the person he once was. You were a person he wished to be once more. Brave and strong despite it all. Kind and passionate and protective even to the low lives like him.

He adored you more than he could ever realize up until now.

Maybe that's why he didn't hesitate when he hastily said "I want to help- if you let me" even when his throat burned with dryness and guilt as he spoke. Even when anxiety shot high in his blood, his tail pinned itself between his legs, feeling just how drained his body was.

He knows you have already done so much for him, for his people. But... Maybe he'll find salvation and forgiveness if he goes with you. Find redemption. At the very least, he could repay you with his services, even if it's being a meat shield as he goes to try and help out the others. He'd deserved that if anything...

Death was too good for someone like him. He deserved to be tortured for all his failures... Yet, when his eyes met yours...

... Maybe you were the angel he had prayed to the Gods for from before... Who knows? Not him. Not when he was surprised you even listened to any of his words. Not when you gave him such a gentle look, eyes full of empathy that he didn't deserve, as you asked him to join your party, another blade in the fight to come.

You... Want him by your side?*

And even when he had his doubts, not wanting to be a backstabber twice over, your glowing eyes met his as you said, "I trust you." You had said it with such earnestness, how could he deny you like that?

He could never turn you down, not with those eyes of yours... And distantly, he remembers how the other refugees would tease him upon meeting you back before everything went to shit... Admittedly, they were right. Just as you were drawn to him, he was drawn to you... Maybe that's why he cared for you more than others...

"... On the condition that if I ever freeze like that again, do not hesitate to strike me down. Better me gone than being a traitor once more." That was his only condition. And he sees you nodding, ignoring the slight hesitation you had at first.

He couldn't bear the idea of hurting you.

"Let's get you checked up and rested first, yeah? You've already been through a lot. And I need to go check for others trapped... Just follow me closely, alright?"

You care so much... He didn't deserve it.

Oh, how he didn't deserve you, but obediently, he followed you with his hand clasped in yours. For you, he'll give you his devotion and faith. His everything, even. After all, you never broke his trust. You never broke his faith. If anything, you gave him what he had lost for so long. Hope.

You have given hope to him just as you gave hope to others. Maybe that's what caused you to stand out from even your group.

You deserve the world with all the good you've done. Of how you saved his people. Of how you saved him. For that, he is grateful, and he'll make sure, as long as he sides with you, he'll help with any endeavors and goals you put your mind to, knowing it would always align with that good nature you carry in your heart. To the end, he will follow.

'So he swears, so mote it be.'

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